


La La La Latch

by woozis_mom



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Cat/Human Hybrids, M/M, its not graphic, its only a few sentances, kitty!jihoon, very mild self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6007897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woozis_mom/pseuds/woozis_mom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minyoung goes through the adoption process, the cost, the necessities, the whole works. Jihoon manages to tune them out for the most part. He watches the sky, keeps his eye on the sun as it weaves in and out of the clouds. However, the man’s voice is pleasing to him and no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, his ears perk up every time he speaks. Five minutes in, Jihoon gives up and pays close attention to what the man says. He has a nice appartment with an extra bedroom for whoever he adopts; his daughter loves animals and so does he; he makes more than enough as an artist to provide for another mouth to feed.<br/>Jihoon’s chest feels empty as he listens. He wishes he could be the subject of the discussion but he knows better. People don't want a short tempered cat hybrid with scars. Tears pool in the corners of his eyes. He squeezes them shut, sniffling silently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The little bell hanging from the shop's door dings for the third time in a row, interrupting Jihoon's nap. Feet shuffle across the carpeted floor. By the sound Jihoon guess there are two or three people in this group. 

He sighs.

Minyoung calls out greetings the new customers, cheerful as ever. Her chipper voice grates on his nerves. She begins the tour of the show room, stopping by each hybrid and introducing them to the customers. 

Jihoon prays she skips over him like she did with the last group. 

They get closer and closer but Jihoon pays them no mind. He curls himself tighter into a ball and tries to focus on the sunshine streaming through the window, letting the warmth soak into his skin. 

“Is there someone that catches your eye?” Minyoung asks before she reaches the window where Jihoon is under. 

As long as the person doesn't walk around the other side of the loveseat he's safe. Pink hair and a tail is hard to hide, even if you're as small as Jihoon is; the couch is the only sort of shelter he has in the showroom. 

“The bunny hybrid was adorable.” A man's voice offers. 

“Yes, the bunnies are quite popular. Especially with kids.” Minyoung says. “Why don't we have a seat and discuss what you would like to do.“

Jihoon doesn't know if he should be mad or glad that she placed the customer on the loveseat; on one hand, the person won't walk around and potentially find him but on the other, they are so close and so loud. His ears twitch. 

At this distance, Jihoon can sniff out three separate scents: Minyoung’s, a man’s, and another girl. A small child, if Jihoon’s nose is correct; she smells of apple juice and baby powder. 

The rub of fabric on jeans irks Jihoon’s sensitive ears. The couch is gonna smell like humans now,  _ ugh _ . 

Minyoung goes through the adoption process, the cost, the necessities, the whole works. Jihoon manages to tune them out for the most part. He watches the sky, keeps his eye on the sun as it weaves in and out of the clouds. However, the man’s voice is pleasing to him and no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, his ears perk up every time he speaks. Five minutes in, Jihoon gives up and pays close attention to what the man says. He has a nice appartment with an extra bedroom for whoever he adopts; his daughter loves animals and so does he; he makes more than enough as an artist to provide for another mouth to feed.   

Jihoon’s chest feels empty as he listens. He wishes he could be the subject of the discussion but he knows better. People don't want a short tempered cat hybrid with scars. Tears pool in the corners of his eyes. He squeezes them shut, sniffling silently.  

The back of Jihoon’s neck tingles, letting him know someone is watching him. He freezes, readying himself for trouble. 

“Sarang, please sit nice.” the man says. 

“Down.” the little girl’s voice is tiny and the pronunciation isn't great. 

The man sighs. “Fine. Stay where I can see you.”

Jihoon thinks about how he could get away without being seen. It’s impossible; all the exits are on the other side of the room, in the customer's line of sight. Besides, there's no way he's crawling on his hands and knees. He’s safer where he is. 

So absorbed in his thoughts, he doesn't register the little girl approaching until it's too late.

“Kitty!” Sarang(?) squeals. 

Jihoon snaps his eyes open, jerks his head towards her but stays still, not wanting to upset her. 

The adults carry on, not paying attention. He’ll yell at Minyoung later for not being attentive enough.

Miniature hands reach out for him. He hisses reflexively, baring his teeth in warning as he gets into a crouch position. Screw not upsetting her.

She hisses back, copying him, then breaks out in giggles. She covers her mouth as if that would muffle the sound. Jihoon relaxes a bit, mesmerized by the fact that this little girl isn't afraid of him in the least bit. He lets cold, chubby fingers rub at the white ears atop his head. 

“Gentle, gentle,” Sarang repeats as she smooths his pink hair down. His ears flick back and forth making her giggle again.

“Pink,” she pats his head, then points to the top of her own head. “I pink too.” 

There's a pink bow in her hair to match her shirt. Jihoon can't help but smile at how adorable she is. Her facial features are small, despite full cheeks, her eyes round with a cute button nose. 

Hyunwoo, a dog hybrid, scampers over on two legs and bends down, nosing roughly at Sarang. “Woozi, who’s this? How come she gets to feel your hair? You never let anyone touch you.” 

Sarang wobbles, face falling, her tiny frame not able handle Hyunwoo’s abrasiveness. Growling at the fellow hybrid, Jihoon snatches her away from him, and places her in his lap so she's seated on his crossed legs, wrapping his arms around her waist protectively.

“Woozi, that's not fair!” Hyunwoo steps forward and Sarang clutches at his shirt, balling the fabric in her fists. “Why is she so special?” He reaches out to her again, but Jihoon swats his hand away, claws catching on his skin. The half-dog yelps, and holds his hand to his chest, nursing his wound. Ears flat on his head Hyunwoo retreats, glaring back at them every few steps. 

“Sarang!”

The couch creaks. Jihoon looks up to seen the man turned around watching them. Fear runs through his veins. Jihoon sets Sarang down on her feet and nudges her forward, then lays back down facing the window eyes closed.

“Dad look, kitty!” she says. 

“I see him, baby. Was he nice to you?” His voices gets closes to Jihoon.  

“Yes, yes, yes! Want pink kitty, please.” Stubby fingers slide through his hair again and he lets out a purr before he can censor himself. 

“Mrs. Kim, what's his name? I don't remember seeing him before.” Sarang’s dad says.  

Hope bubbles in his chest, and he tries to stamp it down.

“Woozi, Sir. but here’s a reason he was skipped over, Mr. Choi.” Minyoung answers. 

“What’s that?” 

No, no, no. Once Mr. Choi hears the reason, he won't want Jihoon anymore. If he even did in the first place. 

“If you would follow me to somewhere more private, i’ll be happy to share that information with you.” Minyoung says, polite as always. 

Fabric rustles once more, and Jihoon winces at the sound.

“Your daughter should come with us, Sir.” Minyoung says, that bitch. She knows Jihoon would never hurt a child. 

Jihoon huffs out a breath of air, indignant. 

“Even Woozi thinks that's ridiculous, Mrs. Kim.” A pause, then: “Sarang, stay with the pink kitty, okay? Dad will be right back.” 

Jihoon’s ears perk up at his name coming from Mr. Choi’s mouth. His tail curls up happily. 

“Okay!” she chirps back.. 

Sarang plays with his tail while they wait, chasing it as he swishes it back and forth. How that keeps her occupied for so long baffles him, but hey, whatever works.

Hyunwoo skulks a few feet away from them, eying Sarang once and awhile, but doesn't come close. 

“Woozi.” Minyoung calls, beckoning him once he looks up. 

Reluctantly, he walks over to her. 

“Mr. Choi and Sarang are willing to adopt you. Honestly, this is your last chance. If you stay here much longer, You know you won't make it. I trust you will be in good care.” She smiles at him. It looks plastic.

Jihoon nods. The corners of his lips tug up. He glances over his shoulder to where Mr. Choi has Sarang seated on his lap. She is already looking at him, not paying attention to whatever her father is whispering into her ear. 

He watches her nod along, hairs swinging, before she is placed on her feet. As soon as she hits the ground she’s off, running over to where he is. 

“Woozi!” She croons and smiles big, showing off all her baby teeth. “Come with!”

Sarang grabs his hand (Really only two of his fingers can fit into her much smaller hand.) and tugs until he relents, following behind her obediently. She makes a beeline for the door, but they are intercepted by her father. 

“Sarang! Wait a minute. Did you ask your new friend if he wanted to come with?” Mr. Choi crouches down to be at her level.  

“No…” she looks at her feet but tightens her hold on his fingers.

He sighs before addressing Jihoon himself. “Woozi, would you like to come home with us?” 

Jihoon doesn't answer. He studies Mr. Choi insead. The man is tall; Jihoon only comes up to his shoulders. He’s thin, but well built. Where Jihoon seems dainty, Mr. Choi is sturdy. His jaw is sharp, but the way he smiles at Jihoon exposes his dimples (They are hidden in his cheeks unlike Jihoon’s, which are at the corners of his lips.). Mr. Choi has big ears too, but it's endearing rather than goofy. They soften his otherwise serious features. 

He’s handsome, Jihoon decides. Looks trustworthy, like he could be really good to Jihoon,  _ good for him. _

_ But so did Jongil.  _

Jihoon glances down at Sarang. She bats her eyelashes at him, and sticks out her lower lip. 

“Come with?” She asks cutely. 

Honestly, how could he resist a face like that?  

“Okay.” He nods for emphasis. It’s quiet since he hasn't used his voice in a while and he probably sounds choked up, but Mr. Choi and Sarang don't pay it any attention. The little girl suckers herself on to his leg and squeals happily. Mr. Choi smiles even bigger at him, dimples deepening.  

 

* * *

 

Jihoon loves his room. 

It’s big, way bigger than he thought he would get if he was honest. There is a king size bed in the corner by the window with plenty of fluffy pillows, a desk on the far wall, an empty bookshelf to his left, and a bureau on the right. Each wall is  pristine white, stark in contrast to the all black comforter and sheets on the bed and the ebony furniture. 

All the floors are hardwood in the apartment, but there is a plush white rug in the middle of his room. Jihoon spends a long time wiggling his toes through the soft fibers before investigating the room some more. 

His closet and bureau are empty but Seungcheol, as Mr. Choi introduced himself as, promised him they would fill it up soon.

Sprawled out across the bed, half asleep, he startles when Seungcheol knocks on the doorframe. His ears perk up and he flinches. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to check on you. See how you were adjusting.” Seungcheol says. 

“I'm good. Thank you.” Jihoon doesn't really remember how to communicate effectively, but he thinks that's a safe bet. 

“If you want, you can take a shower before we eat dinner. You’ll have to share soap with either me or Sarang...or you can wait til I get you supplies tomorrow.” He trails off awkwardly. 

“I- now’s fine, thanks”. Jihoon cringes at his own stuttering. “Where should I..?”

God, they both are a mess. 

“Oh, the bathroom across the hall is yours and Sarang’s.” Seungcheol motions to the door adjacent to his. “Did you need help working the shower?” 

Jihoon nods. 

After some awkward silence, Seungcheol leads the to the bathroom and proceeds to explain which handle makes what happen before showing him where the towels are.

Jihoon thanks him as he shuffles out the door. 

He stands there, fully clothed as the water runs, staring at his reflexion. It's been awhile since he's seen himself properly, has only caught glimpses of himself in his favorite window. 

He studies his face; his clear skin, small, feline eyes, petite nose, sharp teeth, even the curl of his lips, amazed. He could almost pass as a human. His hair is a vibrant pink color, but it ambres out white on the tips of his ears. He has always been short, but the thinness of his humanoid body is shocking; his collarbones stick out even through his shirt, his elbows knobby. 

He could've sworn he had more meat on his bones before. Maybe that's what happens when- 

“Woozi?” It Seungcheol again. “I brought you some clothes to borrow.” 

Jihoon jumps into the shower after he accepts the clothes. He sniffs experimentally at a bottle of bodywash. He regrets it as strawberries assault his nose. He lets out a sneeze, shaking his head. 

It takes him all of five minute to clean himself; he hates showers and has mastered the art of a quick wash.

He tugs on the large t-shirt and baggy sweatpants (so his tail isn't trapped, maybe.) that Seungcheol gave him. The clothes swallow him up, but after pointing it out to Seungcheol and Sarang, once he meets them in the living room, they both agree he looks adorable much to his embarrassment. 

Soon the doorbell rings, bringing sushi that Seungcheol ordered.

“I didn't know what you wanted it could eat so..” Seungcheol offers when Jihoon looks to him questioningly. 

They eat dinner at the kitchen table, Jihoon in-between Sarang and Seungcheol, with Sarang trying to pronounce everything on the table and Jihoon listening intently, helping her along the way. 

The domesticality hits him hard, warming his whole body. 

He’s missed this.

 

* * *

 

    “So, is this your first time being adopted?” Seungcheol asks casually one night. 

It's late, around 9:30, Sarang having been put to sleep an hour prior. Jihoon and Seungcheol sit in the living room, both agreeing to find a show to watch. Seungcheol flips through channels idly, occasionally stopping to watch a drama before losing interest and asking Jihoon if he minds if he switches to something more exciting. Jihoon is curled up at one end of the couch, far away from Seungcheol. 

Its nothing personal, Jihoon just hasn't bonded with the man like he has with Sarang. Jihoon wants too, really, he does, it's just that Seungcheol works all day in his room and Jihoon has been skirting around him whenever he isn't because he doesn't know how to interact with him.  

“Oh, no.” Jihoon chuckles. “This would be my third.” 

“Third?” He repeats, confused. Seungcheol looks over at him and frowns causing a crease to form between his eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” Jihoon says simply. 

He's not quite willing to divulge such personal, painful, information yet. Jihoon fiddles with the end of his tail nervously, eyes lowered. He's half afraid Seungcheol will press him to explain. 

It must show.

“It's fine if you don't wanna talk about it.” Seungcheol says, sensing Jihoon’s discomfort. His voice is low and soft and Jihoon relaxes a bit at the gentle tone. 

“Thanks,” he whispers and nods. 

They go back to staring at the t.v. in silence, but it's not awkward. 

 

* * *

 

It takes a while, and a lot of effort on the others part, but Jihoon warms up to  Seungcheol eventually. 

Sarang helps a lot. She insists the two men have “tea time” on Sundays.

“Daddy n’ kitty” she pushes the back of her father's legs towards Jihoon. “Sit. Drink tea. No Sarang.”

It’s fatally adorable; neither can deny her. Besides, it would be good for them, right? 

Seungcheol helps her prepare the drinks and together they find small snacks that Jihoon can eat. Then, she serves them, spilling more than half the pot, at the table and makes herself scarce (She sits in the living room a few feet away and watches Pororo quietly.) 

Jihoon learns that Seungcheol is a rapper and producer, that's how he's able to work from home; Sarang’s mother couldn't handle the responsibility of being a full time parent; Seungcheol has a tight knit circle of friends, some being other hybrids.

He lets it slip that he used to produce melodies and a few lyrics for his previous owner. He mentions his talents: singing, playing guitar, and drums. Jihoon is sure the other picks up on the resentment and longing in his voice and mistakes the recognition in his eyes for interest so he quickly changed topics. 

Soon Jihoon meets Seungcheol’s friend, a man with pretty, soft looking, long hair named Jeonghan. Jihoon dislikes him in the beginning despite how kind hearted he is. Another cat’s scent is all over him. It's off putting. Plus the long haired male sits too close to his Seungcheol, speaks too intimately. 

Jihoon wishes Sarang was here to distract her dad from his friend, but he knows she has to visit her mother at some point even if the woman is practically the devil incarnate.   

Jeonghan and Seungcheol sit plastered together on the couch after introductions, chatting about something Jihoon isn't interested in. 

Possessiveness and jealousy hit Jihoon like a train. Not thinking, he sit on the other side of Seungcheol, hip to knees touching. 

No response. Jihoon tongues the inside of his cheek indignantly. 

Desperate, he climbs onto Seungcheol’s lap and kneads at his sweater, letting his instincts take over, but still unsure where this boldness is coming from. Seungcheol rubs behind his ears, and it feels good, but he is still caught up on his conversation with Jeonghan.  He has half a mind to hiss at Jeonghan, but he's not a savage so he refrains. 

Jihoon squints annoyed that Seungcheol isn't paying more attention to him. Shit, Jihoon is  _ sitting in his lap.  _ He’s never done that before, has barely sat less than a foot close to the man voluntarily. How could he not be amazed? Jihoon certainly is. 

Determined to get what he wants, Jihoon shimmies his way right between the two humans, ectively distracting them both, tail curled around Seungcheol’s thigh possessively, facing Seungcheol. Jeonghan scoots over to make more room for him. 

“Alright, Woozi, I can take a hint.” He laughs. He pats Jihoon on the shoulder good naturedly. 

Jihoon looks over his shoulder at him, but remains silent.

“We can finish our talk later, okay?” Jeonghan smiles warmly at both of them before standing up.

“You're an angel, Jeonghan. “ Seungcheol's sighs and rubs his hand down Jihoon’s spine. 

Jihoon hums appreciatively.

        “Nah, I'm just used to it. Jisoo gets like this sometimes too.” 

       Seungcheol starts to stand, probably to show Jeonghan out. Jihoon throws his legs over his thighs at the same time Jeonghan says gently, “Don't bother getting up I know the way out.” 

     Once his friend leaves, Seungcheol sighs loud and long. He looks down at Jihoon, who bats his eyelashes.

       “What am I going to do with you?” he questions.

       “Sorry,” Jihoon pulls his legs back toward his own body, feeling stupid now that Jeonghan left. Thinking how mad Seungcheol is, he scoots to the other end of the couch. 

       “After all that you're going to just leave?” He asks incredulously, frowning a bit.

       “Aren't you upset with me?” It's quiet; Jihoon hopes he doesn't catch it. He loops his arms around his knees and rests his chin against them.

       “Upset?” He shakes his head, hair shifting on his forehead. “More like pleasantly surprised and maybe a little bit confused, but I'm not angry.” 

     “Oh.” Relief floods Jihoon. 

      “I’ll be hurt too if you really stay all the way over there though.” Seungcheol sticks out his bottom lip and flings his arms open in an attempt to look cute and inviting.

      Jihoon bites back a smile and crawls back over to Seungcheol, lets himself be placed under one arm. He savors the scrape of fingers over his scalp, even goes so far as to squeeze his eyes shut and purr once they reach the base of his right ear. 

       The fingers stop abruptly at the sound. Jihoon flushes cherry red, realizing he's been caught, and snaps his eyes open to gauge Seungcheol's reaction. 

      The other man has a small smile on his face and amazement in his eyes. 

      “First you initiate skinship, then you purr and blush? Oh man, am I still sleeping?” He pinches his thigh dramatically sucking in a breath at the sting. 

     “Should I leave?” Jihoon worries his fingers in his lap, bracing himself for the inevitable teasing that will ensue. 

     “No!” Seungcheol tightens his hold on the cat hybrid. “I mean you don't have to, but if you're free to if you're uncomfortable with me.” He amends, relaxing his hold on Jihoon.

       It's just- I always thought you didn't like me very much. It's clear how much you love Sarang, but me? You've kept a certain distance between us so I just assumed…” he explains. 

    Jihoon lets the words hang in the air for a moment but doesn't remove himself from Seungcheol's side. 

    “You're an idiot. As if I'd live with someone I didn't like.” It's a backhanded reassurance, but it's all Jihoon is ready to give. 

 

* * *

 

Jihoon gets his rut a week after he first met Jeonghan. 

He feels sick at first, like he’s caught the flu. He’s got all the symptoms: the coldness all over, body aches, loss of appetite, increased slumber. 

During one of his naps he ends up slipping into Seungcheol's room, enticed by the smell. He goes through Seungcheol's laundry, finds the shirt he wore last night and balls the fabric up. Bringing it to his nose he inhales, still half lucid. He falls asleep in Seungcheol's closet, curled in on himself. Thank god he wakes up before Seungcheol and Sarang get back from grocery shopping or that's be really embarrassing to explain. 

He realizes what's wrong with him after that and locks himself in his bedroom, forgetting to bring water in his haste. 

By the time they get home, Jihoon has tucked himself into a blanket burrito. Sarang bangs on the door, calling his name, but she stops eventually. He feels guilty, but at the same time, he can't let either Sarang or Seungcheol see him like this. He’s fairly certain he’d jump Seungcheol's bones at this point anyway. 

It hits him full force around midnight. He’s withering in pain, a mess of lust and desperation. Grinding down on the mattresses helps, but it's ultimately unsatisfying. Jihoon can hear himself whining, and tries to keep quiet by shoving his face into a pillow.

Eyes wet, he thinks of Seungcheol and how much he craves his help. 

There's a scratching at the window and somehow he manages to hear it through the trance he’s in. He looks up and sees he’s forgotten to  draw the shades all the way through, and now there's a set of eyes glowing through the small opening. 

Panic surges through Jihoon briefly overpowering the rut. He scrambles backward, falling off the bed when he gets caught up in the covers, but he doesn't stop until his back collides  with the door. 

“Woozi?” Seungcheol call from the other side. “Is everything okay?” 

“Y-yes,” he croaks out. His hand reaches up to open the door automatically, having a mind of its own, but he yanks the appendage down before it makes contact with the knob. 

Jihoon can smell Seungcheol lingering by the door. Its soothing; his scent  calms Jihoon down just enough so he can crawl over to the window, hiss at the other hybrid, and pull the shades all the way down. 

Jihoon sinks under the sil, letting himself rest. He imagines how nice it would be if Seungcheol was with him, how much pain would be avoided if he asked for help. But then Jongil flashes through his mind, the look of disgust, the way he watched Jihoon suffer. 

Tears spills over and he shakes from the effort of dragging himself over to the rug, body already exhausted from battling the rut. Luckily, Jihoon passes out after that. 

 

* * *

 

Banging wakes him up again at some point.

“Woozi! Woozi, open the door!” Then a quite and rushed, “Jeonghan I need you to come over and bring Jisoo. Something is wrong with Woozi.”  

Seungcheol continues to talk, sometimes mentioning his name, but Jihoon manages to block him out. 

He’s got to hide if Seungcheol is planning to come into his room; Jihoon refuses to see Seungcheol be grossed out by him. 

It takes all of Jihoon’s energy to crawl under his bed. His vision is blurry, and he has to take periodic breaks to reorient himself. It's a tight fit at first; he scrapes his back against the bedframe and knocks his ankle against the post, but he manages to hide. 

 Jihoon lay there panting, unable to catch his breath. The floor is too icy against his skin, the cold seeping through his this shirt, making him shiver uncontrollably. Jihoon’s tail wraps around his leg for warmth, however measly. He wishes he would've bundled up instead of keeping his basketball shorts and a t-shirts on, but deep down he knows he would've overheated too quickly. He’s learned his lesson from all the times prior. 

The door slams open, new and old scents assaulting him.  Seungcheol and Jeonghan are close, but he doesn't recognize the third person.

“Check the closet then under the bed.” No, its another cat hybrid. 

Jihoon whimpers, spying three sets of shoes. 

“Woozi?” Seungcheol calls worriedly. “Please come out.” 

Jeonghan’s face comes into view, silky hair swinging and pity painting his features. “I found him! Oh, Woozi.” 

Jihoon moves sideways, as far from him as he can get, until he feels the wall cool on his arm. 

“Please let me help you.” Jeonghan begs, voice soft. 

Tempted, Jihoon slaps hands over his hears, cheek squished on the floor. So focused on blocking them out, he startles when a hand grabs his foot and tries to kick it off. 

“Seungcheol! Jeonghan! Lift the end up so he doesn't get hurt!” 

He's dragged out from under the bed by the leg, his hands scratching wildly at the floor for purchase. 

He's full blown crying now, the hybrids touch like acid on his skin when he’s pulled on the male’s lap. A hand slips under his bangs to feel his forehead and he claws at the arm, nails breaking skin.

“Jeonghan run a tepid bath, he's way too hot. Seungcheol help me with Woozi.” 

“No, no, no!” Jihoon wants to struggle, but he's losing consciousness. Next thing he knows, he's been dumped in icy water. Hands squeezing the sides of the tub, he sputters, trying to suck in oxygen, but his lungs are seizing up. Someone keeps pouring water over his head steadily. After a while it's not so bad and he is finally able to take in a lungful of air. 

“That's it, just breathe.” The other cat hybrid says. “We’re almost done.” 

True to his word, a few minutes later he’s plucked from the water. His soggy boxers are replaced and he’s toweled off. Starting from his head, the fellow cat takes extra care of his ears, then the rest of him. He spends time rubbing his tail dry. Then, he’s placed in a fresh set of clothes- more shorts and a t-shirt. 

Jihoon lets himself be manhandled, too worn out physically to protest. 

Next he’s carried to Seungcheol’s room and placed on the mattresses, face up. He lolls his head away from the other man and stares at the wall.

Jihoon does feel better in here, though, a little bit farther from insanity. 

“Okay, Jeonghan it's safe to come in.” the other calls. 

“Hi, Woozi. I’m going to set you up on an I.V, alright? You’ll feel a little pinch but it won't be too bad.” 

Wordlessly, Jihoon offers his arm. He knows the procedure, having been through it often enough. The liquid is chilly as its rushes through his veins, but it's not nearly as bad as they bath water. 

“There, you're all set.” Jeonghan pats his hand in a gesture of comfort. “I hope you feel better soon.” 

“Thanks,” he sniffles. A tear runs across the bridge of his nose and hits the pillow. 

 

* * *

 

The next time he wakes up, Jeonghan and his hybrid are gone. So is the I.V. 

Stomach growling, hunger hits him hard. 

Jihoon gingerly rolls out of Seungcheol’s bed. He takes a step, and his knees buckle but he manages to catch himself on the bed post. He takes a minute to steady himself, then slowly walks, with one on the wall for support, to the kitchen. He makes it to the living room before he's intercepted by Seungcheol. 

“Woozi! How are you feeling? Are you hungry?” Seungcheol reaches out to help support Jihoon, who nods to his questions while keeping his eyes lowered.

“Here, sit on the couch while I make you something to eat. Or do you want me to order something?” he pauses. “On second thought, my cooking might kill you. Are you craving anything? Sushi?” 

“That's fine.” Jihoon mumbles. As they reach the couch. He sighs, his sore body sinking into the cushions. 

Seungcheol whips out his cell phone and orders their usual, then makes it double. He remains standing the whole time he speaks on the phone.

Once he’s hung up, he sits on the couch, keeping his distance from Jihoon. 

Looking at the empty air between them, Jihoon wants to cry. He feels his ears flatten themselves against his hair as he studies Seungcheol. 

The other seems nervous; he's got his hands tucked under his thighs and he keeps glancing over at Jihoon. 

“Where's Sarang?” Jihoon asks, hoping to better the mood. 

“She was at Soonyoung’s but she should be back soon. She missed you a lot. We both did.” Seungcheol looks him straight in the eye as he's says the last part. 

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon gulps. 

“We’ll talk about what happened later, once you’re better.” He waves his hand dismissively. “I’ll take you to the doctors tomorrow, okay?” 

Jihoon nods and inches over to Seungcheol. 

“Can I - Can you-” Jihoon stops himself and takes a deep breath. Tentatively, he grabs Seungcheol's hand and holds it. 

“Woozi,” he lets out breathily before slipping his hand out from Jihoon’s.

His heart stops, his stomach free falling.  _ This is it,  _ Jihoon thinks, but then Seungcheol is pulling him onto his lap, letting Jihoon’s thighs settle snugly around his waist, and burying his face into the crook of his neck. 

Jihoon stays frozen, unsure what to do. He's not used to this type of affection or concern. 

“You really scared me.” Seungcheol whispers, breath hot on his skin. 

And that's all it takes for Jihoon to unthaw and wrap himself around Seungcheol the rest of the way. He feels tears pool in the hollow of his collarbone.

“Jihoon,” he corrects before he really thinks it through. “My real name, the one my mother gave me is Jihoon.” 

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol repeats, testing the name out.

Oh, god, does Jihoon love the sound of his name coming from Seungcheol's lips. He hums, showing his appreciation. 

“Where did the name Woozi come from, then?” Seungcheol traces his collarbone with his nose; Jihoon shivers. 

“Jongil gave it to me.” Jihoon frowns, the man's name leaving a bad taste in his mouth. “He didn't like my given name, thought Woozi was more appropriate.” 

“What an asshole.” Seungcheol stills. 

“You don't know the half of it.” Jihoon snorts, pleased at Seungcheol's remark. He lets his hands wander; glides dainty fingers through the silky strands of Seungcheol's hair, the other hand feeling the muscles and bones through his back. It's reassuring how sturdy Seungcheol feels. Like he won't break or bend under the weight of Jihoon's constant ups and downs. 

Jihoon wants to stay like this forever. It’s like the whole world is on pause for them; he doesn’t worry about the upcoming doctor's appointment or how shitty the past few days have been or even how hard it's going to be for him to open up again after this moment has passed, even with how far his relationship with Seungcheol has come.

He hears the pitter patter of little feet running down the hall, a set chasing after the first, and a steadier, wider stride following close behind. Jihoon’s ears flick at the new sound.

The closer they get, the stronger their scents become to Jihoon. He recognizes Sarang, and the hybrid that helped him earlier, but the other is new to him. 

A mix of apprehension and excitement swirl in his stomach. 

Jihoon pulls away from Seungcheol's hold and slides next to him on the couch. Seungcheol makes a sound of dissent but releases Jihoon without other protests. 

“Sarang is back,” he offers so the other doesn't think he was uncomfortable with their intimacy. 

A key slides into the lock, the tumblers sliding into place, then the door is being swung open. 

“Kitty!” Sarang hollers through the apartment. “Where kitty?” 

Seungcheol and Jihoon look at each other and giggle at his daughter's cuteness. 

She rounds the corner and shrieks happily once she lays eyes on Jihoon, the pitch high enough to hurt his sensitive ears. He smiles back anyway and opens his arms for the little girl to fling herself into. 

The hybrid and a man Jihoon doesn’t recognize stand off to the side. 

“Still sick?” She mumbles into his shoulder. 

“No, baby. I’m all better now.” Jihoon bluffs. Technically he won't know until the doctor says so, but he’s unwilling to worry the small child currently clinging to him. 

Seungcheol meets his eyes and Jihoon can clearly see the worry he tries to conceal. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is unedited so sorry for any mistakes/typos  
> hope you like it :))

 

Jihoon's day has sucked so far and he hasn't even left the house for his appointment yet: his tail has been sat on, he slept through his alarm so Seungcheol had to wake him up, he got toothpaste on his shirt, and his jaw has been aching since he rolled out of bed. 

In his rush to get ready, Jihoon threw on a plain white t-shirt with a pastel yellow hoodie over it and a pair of jeans that were tailored specifically for tailed hybrids. He doesn't particularly like the outfit - he's in different, really - but Seungcheol practically had an aneurism when he tried it on in the store, declaring Jihoon the cutest little thing, to which Jihoon glared and hid in the changing room until the blush on his cheeks faded. Honestly, Jihoon thinks Seungcheol exaggerates too much; the outfit isn't that great. In fact, dare he say it, it's boring and plain.    

The drive to the doctor's office is quiet. Seungcheol plays rap music from his phone, and it's low to Jihoon even with his enhanced hearing. Jihoon watches the outside world race by, fingers idly tapping on his knee.

“Nervous?” Seungcheol speaks up. 

“No,” he lies. Glancing over, Jihoon watches as Seungcheol flicks his eyes between him and the road. Jihoon notes how tight he's gripping the steering wheel. 

Seungcheol nods and leaves it at that. 

Jihoon turns back to the window, rolling his tongue over his molers, not really focusing on the blurry landscape. He thinks of all times prior, with Jongil, he suffered through his rut. During his time at the adoption center, he was never checked out. They tried, once, when he first arrived but Jihoon was still too wound up from years of abuse to let anyone touch him. They told him they'd try again after he felt more comfortable but they never carried through since it wasn't a legal requirement. 

After so long, he's almost positive his body is in bad shape. Cycles are too physically taxing, the damages to severe, for them to be treated as a simple cold as Jongil did; He took Jihoon the hospital but never let him stay for the full treatment no matter how bad it got.

Shit, it's a miracle he’s lasted this long without kicking the bucket.

But Seungcheol doesn't need to know that. It’ll only upset him, and Jihoon doesn't like it when Seungcheol is sad. 

“Jihoon?” He’ll never get used to how his name sounds coming from Seungcheol's lips. “You ready? We’re here.”

 

* * *

 

The check up itself is very boring - he gets poked, prodded and even had to pee in a cup - until the Doctor asked to speak to Seungcheol out in the hall. Alone. 

That's when Jihoon starts to worry. 

“So, Woozi, have you always been a bit in the smaller side?” Dr. Kim asked when she enters with Seungcheol shuffling in behind her. 

Jihoon tries to search Seungcheol’s face for any clues as to what is going on but the man’s eyes are glued to his shoes. 

“Yeah. I’ve always been tiny compared to other hybrids.” 

Dr. Kim types on her laptop before speaking again. “What about your mother?”  

“What about her?” he bristles, chewing on his cheek. 

“Was she on the smaller side too?” she tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear, voice light. 

“I wouldn't know.” He wouldn't. Jihoon doesn't have a decent memory of his mother. Just knows that she was kind and loving, and she cried when he was taken from her - and she gave him a name. Things like her hair or eye color, size, the sound of her voice, or even her name are things Jihoon wonders about. Is his pink hair from his mother? He wishes he knew.    

“Ah, well, the test results came back better than expected.” she switches topics easily and Jihoon is grateful- he’d rather not dwell on his past. “There are some complications we need to discuss, however.

Sustaining a high fever, during heats no less, for long periods of time with minimum treatment over a few years, has put too much stress on your organs, especially with how small you are. It’s possible the untreated heats are the reason your growth has been stunted, actually. 

Nothing too serious showed up on the tests, however, we would like to get a handle on it now. If you wait much longer, it may be too late. 

I would like to start you on a regulator for the ruts. It's a small pill you would take once, everyday. That way you can come in when you know it's about to start so we can monitor just how the rut affects you and more specifically your body. Any questions?” Dr. Kim looks between them. 

“Uh, yeah. Do I have to come during my rut? Can’t I just take the pills?” Jihoon knows how expensive hospital stays are - Jongil never let him forget. 

“Regardless if your owner chooses to get the pill, I strongly advise you to let us monitor the rut. It seems to be getting more aggressive the older you get and eventually, if the fever gets high enough it could cause brain damage or even death. Besides, it’ll help us to see how much pressure your organs are under, if you will need a new heart over the next few years or not, and how to treat you right now. Your previous owner, Seo Jongil, never gave us the chance to properly assess the situation and because of this, you have worsened considerably since the last time you were here..” she makes a show of looking over his records. “I believe you came in two years ago, post rut, suffering from dehydration and Broken Heart Syndrome but we were not able to properly diagnose and treat you.”

“Stop,” he whispers, twisting his tail nervously. 

“If Mr. Seo had let us fully evaluate you then all this would have been prevented.” Dr. Kim looks to Seungcheol. “How we proceed is up to you.”     

Jihoon sneaks a look at Seungcheol to gauge his reaction. Anger clouds his expression, his eyebrows set menacingly. “I would like to hold off on having his prescription filled.”

“Yes sir. The good news is that if Woozi is no longer in a stressful environment and his rut is handled in the correct way, he should be fine - barring any complications.” Dr. Kim smiles at Seungcheol and Jihoon.   

  
  


* * *

 

The ride home is tense, to say the least. 

Jihoon has to rub the sweat off his hands so many times he loses track. and his eyes keep darting around the car nervously. Heat vent, window, shoes, radio, repeat. 

_ He is going to get rid of me. I won’t get to see Sarang ever again.  _

Seungcheol doesn’t say a word. The human still waits for Jihoon when he exits the car, though, and keeps pace with his significantly shorter legs. Jihoon appreciates his chivalry.

Sarang skips up to them the moment they walk through the front door, dress swishing around her legs. 

“Woozi!” she goes straight for Jihoon first and this warms his heart. She makes him feel significant and he loves her for it. 

“Hi, baby.” Jihoon’s voice cracks over with sadness. He hugs her tight and tries to memorize the feeling of being loved whole heartedly. He doubts he’ll be privileged enough to experience it again. Letting her go is more difficult than he thought. 

“Hi, Daddy.” she tugs on Seungcheol’s pants leg. Seungcheol stoops down low so she can kiss his cheek. 

“Hey, Princess. How was your day with Uncle Jeonghan and Jisoo?” he asks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Good! I colored ‘n watched Peter Pan with Uncle Jisoo!” she says, words stunted a little bit. She smiles wide, gums showing. 

“Sounds like you had lots of fun.” He reaches out to pat her head affectionately. “Daddy and Woozi have to make dinner now, okay? Can you watch over Uncle Jeonghan some more for me?” 

Sarang crosses her arms over her chest and juts out her bottom lip in displeasure. “Daddy go alone. It’s Sarangs turn with Woozi.” 

“Not yet,” Seungcheol shakes his head. “Daddy has to speak with him first and then Woozi needs to rest.”

“No fair!” she whines, gluing herself to Jihoon’s leg. 

“If you’re good you can have ice cream after dinner.” Seungcheol says, standing up casually. 

Sarang mulls this over for about 2.5 seconds before detaching herself. “Deal!”

For some reason, watching her walk away has Jihoon’s eyes pooling with tears. He sniffs, his head drooping. He feels his body shrinking under the fear of losing everything.   

“Jihoon? Seungcheol asks, alarmed. He scans over Jihoon from head to toe. “Is everything okay? Are you hurting anywhere? Should I have Jeonghan come take a look at you again?” 

Jihoon shakes his head, feeling tiny and trying not to let any tears escape. 

“Why are you crying?” the sincerity in his voice is what kills Jihoon. 

He couches down, knees to his chest, face hidden by his elbows. With the measly coverage he breaks. Tear run down his face steadily, leaving him gulping for air. It only worsens once he feels a hand rub soothing circles over his back. 

“You have to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” 

“You're going to get rid of me!” he yells, his knees muffling his words so it's undecipherable.  

“I can't understand you. Take a breath and try again, okay?” 

Jihoon gulps past the knot in his throat before lifting his head. He looks straight into Seungcheol’s eyes and repeats himself. “You're getting rid of me, aren't you?” 

“What?” Seungcheol jerks back, eyes roaming over Jihoon’s face. He takes the tear streaks, red, puffy eyes and runny nose in. “No, baby.”

Jihoon deflates, body slumping against the wall,  his legs giving up on him. He sits there slack jawed for a moment. Hope bubbles up in his chest.  “You’re not?” 

“Why would you think that?” Seungcheol rubs behind his ears, head cocked to one side.  

“You didn’t fill the prescription like the doctor said you should and you haven’t even looked at me until now, you even smell pissed. I thought-” Jihoon stops, voice quavering. Eyes falling, he twists his tail in his lap.     

“Oh,” Seungcheol says, the light bulb going on over his head. “I just wanted to talk to you about it first. As for me being mad, you’re right. I am furious but not with you.”

“I don’t understand.” Jihoon furrows his eyebrows and bites his lip. Seungcheol’s fingers in his hair is distracting him. 

“It’s your body, after all. You deserve to make your own decisions about it. If you want the pills, i’ll make the call to get them and if you want to go back during the next rut, i’ll drop everything and take you. If not, then that's okay too. Just think about it for a while.” 

Jihoon listens to Seungcheol with rapt attention, eyes glued to him like he hung the moon, his heart thudding against his chest. Tears drip slowly off his chin and splatter against his pants.

No one had ever given him complete and total freedom before. 

Truthfully, the thought that he could chose what happened to him, had never been a  possibility. He’d been torn from his mother’s arms as a child and tossed from one abusive asshole to another; everyone knew he couldn’t do a thing about it. They sat back while Jongil tried his best to stop Jihoon from having a rut and now his body is malfunctioning because he was powerless.

At the adoption center, the others talked about it like their heats were the best thing. They would be pampered during that whole week and they never once suffered. It was mind boggling to Jihoon, since all he did was suffer during his rut. 

Now here is Choi Seungcheol, offering up his freedom to choose what happens to his body  like it’s nothing - the easiest, simplest thing in the world. In that moment, Jihoon falls in love just a little bit. 

“Come on, let’s go make dinner.” Seungcheol pulls him to his feet and leads him to the kitchen. 

They stand in the middle of the room, not saying anything at first. Jihoon lets out a squawk as the other envelopes him in a hug, secure arms wrapping around his waist, but clings to Seungcheol immediately. Warm breath tickles his ear, “I can’t believe you thought I would send you back to the place where any asshole could just pick you up.” 

“It’s happened to me before, so…” he whispers, half hoping Seungcheol doesn’t hear him. When Seungcheol starts to draw away Jihoon tightens his grip on the others sweater, not quite ready to let go. Burying his face into Seungcheol’s chest, Jihoon inhales deep, processing  the different emotions and how they manipulate the core aroma that is uniquely Seungcheol’s. Anger sits like jalapenos on his tongue, setting his sinuses on fire, frustration like sticky marshmallows. Citrusy determination burns through his lungs. Then, _ love  _ washes over everything - Jihoon quickly brushes that away, not wanting to be let down if he is wrong later.  

Seungcheol rests his chin atop the crown of Jihoon’s head. “Should we make a spicy seafood hot pot tonight?”

“Hmm, that sounds really good.” Jihoon says, words muffled by Seungcheol’s sweater.”

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol kisses his head and shocked, Jihoon lets him pull away. Suddenly nervous, he studies his socked feet. Hands tightening around his hips, Seungcheol heaves Jihoon onto the granite countertop in one fluid motion. “Stay here, okay?”

Jihoon nods, swinging his feet back and forth. Pain twangs through the back of his mouth and he reaches up to massage the area. 

He watches as Seungcheol flits around the kitchen, grabbing supplies left and right.  White radishes, shiitake mushrooms, carrots, baby tatsoi, and pea shoots are lined up next to a variety of seafood - Jihoon’s mouth waters. Eyes catching on the way his arm muscles ripple as he rolls up his sleeves, Jihoon thinks back to what he said in the hallway. Still, he remains silents as Seungcheol begins chopping the vegetables.   

He makes it five minutes before his inquisitiveness gets the best of him. Ears flickering uncertainly, he says, “Earlier, in the hallway, what did you mean when you said you were furious but not with me?” 

_ What did they say about curiosity? _

Seungcheol pauses, shoulders tense, knife poised over a carrot, before continuing to slice the vegetables. 

_ Oh, yeah. It killed the cat _ . 

“Well,” he starts, “I’m angry at your previous owners for mistreating you. I'm angry that there aren’t any laws protecting hybrids in general, but you specifically, and I’m pissed at myself for not taking you for a check up earlier.” They sit in silence while Jihoon mulls this over. 

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon says, biting his lip and glancing away. “for not telling you i’m broken. You offered me everything i've ever wanted that day at the adoption center and I couldn't help but latch onto you.” 

“No, no. “ Seungcheol shakes his head vehemently, placing the knife on the counter. “You’re not broken and I’m so immensely glad that you came home with us.” 

Jihoon glances back to the other, noting the frown etched into his features. He picks the knife back up and resumes cooking.  

“I should have known better. I knew that adoption centers don’t always make sure their hybrids are okay and healthy. Minyoung only mentioned behavior problems, but I saw how you protected Sarang and I couldn’t see anything physically wrong with you. Sure, you were distant with me at first but I just figured you didn’t like me.” He puts more force into chopping the carrots; heavy thunks fill the air between his words. “When you locked yourself in your room I thought maybe you just had a cold and needed sleep or something. I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“You couldn’t have known.” Jihoon protests, muscles in his face tightening. His feet stop swinging. 

“I’m so stupid. I should have picked up on it when you suddenly started being touchy-feely with me.” Seungcheol’s speech quickens the more he goes on, voice getting louder. “That day with Jeonghan, you were in my lap, shit you even purred when I rubbed your ear.” 

“Seungcheol,” Jihoon calls, shaking his head. 

_ Do I really have to spell it out for him? _

“I was just so happy then.” he continues, scooching the carrots to the side and starting on the mushrooms. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I knew you didn’t like me but hoped you would eventually. Even now, I get that you are just scared, you probably could feel it coming on that day with Jeonghan, and don’t really care for me.” 

“That’s not true, I-” he tries to deny it. Seungcheol has to understand.   

“You just needed some comfort, someone to be there for you and I’m the only one available. I shouldn’t keep hugging you and stuff, I kno-”

“Shut up!” Jihoon snaps, his temper flaring. Why does everyone talk over him? He’s had enough of that bullshit. Hopping off the counter he stalks over to where Seungcheol stands bewildered. The other sets the knife back down on the counter and faces Jihoon squarely, face pinched. 

Glaring up at Seungcheol he continues. “I was just jealous that time with Jeonghan! You seem so close to him and it pissed me off. It had nothing to do with my shitty body.” he gestures to himself. Face flushed, Jihoon balls his hands, stuffs them in his pockets, and puffs out his cheeks. “Cats are territorial creatures, I guess.”

“Jealous of Jeonghan?” Seungcheol raises his eyebrows, incredulous.  

“Yeah.” Jihoon nods, dizzy with the euphoria that speaking his mind brings. “I’ve always liked you, Seungcheol.” 

Seungcheol’s eyes widen comically, his mouth growing slack. Something akin to wonder shines through his expression. 

“You and Sarang both have this pull on me, even from the very beginning. It’s just that I don’t trust people easily; my experiences and common sense told me to be apprehensive of everyone and everything. Why do you think I was hiding when Sarang found me?” he laughs, then mentally cringes at how self depreciating it sounds. 

“Maybe because toddlers are terrifying?” Seungcheol laughs, more relaxed now that Jihoon has admitted to his feelings.  

Jihoon shakes his head, vision blurry and smile slipping off his face. “I was prepared to die in there, you know.”     

Lips set in a grim line, Seungcheol wipes his hands on a towelette before cuping Jihoon’s cheeks. Catching tears with his thumb and eyes scanning Jihoon’s face, he says, “You will always have a place with me and Sarang.” 

“Ouch,” Jihoon whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut as his cheek gets caught between his teeth. 

Seungcheol retracts his hands like he was burned, frown creasing his eyebrows. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Oh, no. It’s not you!” Jihoon prods around the back of his jaw with gentle fingers,  “My jaw has just been hurting lately. It’s really nothing.” he waves away Seungcheol’s concern. 

“No, it’s not,” the other tsked. Reaching out, he ruffles Jihoon’s hair.  “I’ll set up a dentist appointment after dinner, okay?” 

“I hate the dentist.” Jihoon sulks, slumping against the counter.

* * *

 

“It’ll be good for you, Jihoon.” Seungcheol says between bites of jajangmyeon. He takes a sip of water, then continues. “Everybody needs friends.” 

“I have friends.” Jihoon stares at the black bean noodles in his bowl, picking up bundles of noodles then dropping them. 

“I don’t count.” he raises a finger when Jihoon looks up and opens his mouth again. “And neither does Sarang.” 

“Hey!” Sarang shouts, offended that she isn’t eligible to be Jihoon’s friend. Her dad reaches over to mop up the black bean sauce painting her mouth. 

“Sorry, Princess.” Seungcheol kisses her temple then goes back to eating.

Jihoon sighs dramatically and sprawls the upper half of his body over the table, tail swishing behind him, narrowly avoiding the side dishes scattered around their bowels. “I don’t need anyone else.” 

“Yes, you do.” he laughs, dimples making an appearance as he feeds Sarang a few radishes. “We are family, not friends. So, Mingyu and Wonwoo will he over around 2:30ish.” 

“That’s in a few hours!” Jihoon whines, tail shooting straight up. “I’m not even showered yet!” 

Sarang drops a clump of noodles on the tabletop; Seungcheol swoops in to clean up her mess. 

“I guess I can’t meet with them today,” Jihoon smirks, tracing his glass of water with the tip of his finger. “Since we all have to get ready and that will take forever.”   

“Baby,” Jihoon, pink tinting his cheeks, sits up to meet Seungcheol’s warm, sleepy, brown eyes. Seungcheol stares him down, an honest and open look on his face. “Please just meet them, okay? Wonwoo is quiet, but he’s really nice. I think you’ll like him.” 

“Fine, but only because you asked nicely.” he mutters, cheeks still pink.  

Food temporarily forgotten, Jihoon studies the man sitting across from him. On this lazy sunday, Seungcheol’s hair is still ruffled from sleep since they got up late and the baggy white t-shirt he wears does nothing to hide the muscles cording his arms. Jihoon thinks he looks beautiful.

_ When did I get so whipped? _

“Baby?” Sarang tilts her head and points to Jihoon. “That’s kitty, Dad.” Jihoon is pretty sure he is a tomato at this point, his ears and neck burning. Seungcheol burst out laughing and Sarang follows, her high pitched giggles making the white ears atop his head twitch. 

 

* * *

 

The friends Seungcheol introduce him to turn out to be giants. Both the hybrid are taller than Seungcheol himself, and Jihoon feels like an ant next to all three of them. The human is marked heavily by his hybrid, but the ease in which they greet Seungcheol will hugs aggravates him. 

As if sensing Jihoon’s discomfort, Seungcheol tucks him into his side and slips a strong arm around his petite shoulders. The warmth radiating from his body soothes Jihoon’s tense stature. Jihoon’s tail, of it’s own accord, winds its way around his thigh, seeking attention. Seungcheol’s arm tightens against him, so Jihoon curls his tail around his own torso; he doesn’t want Seungcheol to be uncomfortable by the intimacy.

The tallest man lifts his eyebrows at their interaction but doesn’t say anything. 

“So, Jihoon, this is Mingyu,” Seungcheol points to the biggest giant. “and this is his cat hybrid Wonwoo.” 

Jihoon rubs his side against Seungcheol, trying discreetly to mark Seungcheol with his scent. Giant #2, aka Wonwoo, bites his lip in attempt to hold back a laugh. 

Eyes thinning into slits, Jihoon holds back a hiss. He doesn't think this whole ‘friends’ thing is gonna work out. 

 

* * *

 

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol whines, honey dripping off every syllable as he shimmies his shoulders in attempt to be cute. before refocusing on the road in front of them 

Having none of it, Jihoon turns away from the elder and continues to pout as he watches the trees speed by. 

“Baby,” he tries again, dropping the cutesy act since it wasn’t gaining him any headway with Jihoon’s stoicism. “I know this sucks big time. Who wants to have teeth pulled? But it’s for the best.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Jihoon grumbles. “you aren’t the one who has to have their teeth surgically removed.” 

“That’s true, “ he hums, tapping the steering wheel. “But it’s not like you’re gonna need them. Your wisdom teeth are only causing you pain - just think how much better you will feel after they are out.” 

Still sulking, Jihoon turns to face Seungcheol. “The doctor said i’d be in pain for a week after they are out.” 

Seungcheol nods, flicking his eyes to Jihoon for a second. “But after that it’ll be great. Things have to get worse before they get better, right?” 

“I guess,” he says, unconvinced. Either way, pain is his new best friend. 

They pull into the parking lot and Jihoon watches as Seungcheol maneuvers the car into their usual spot with ease. Just the way he handles the car, head turned to look over his shoulder, one hand on the back of Jihoon’s seat and the other on the wheel, has Jihoon’s stomach tumbling. 

_ How can he make something as monotonous as parking be hot? _

Sarang greets them at the door as usual, her tiny hands tugging them both into the living room so they can join in on her tea party. The coffee table is cluttered with her play set, pot in the center and surrounded by a sugar bowl, milk pitcher and cups. There is a plate of half eaten cookies by Jeonghan and Jisoo.    

Jeonghan waves once they enter. Jisoo, his hybrid, is lying with his head pillowed on his thighs, sound asleep. Bending down the whisper in the others ear, Jeonghan gently shakes him awake. Half awake, Jisoo shuffles over to the front door to slip on shoes before resting against the wall, eyes closed.  

Jihoon curls up on the couch, leaning against the armrest, head tucked into the crook of his elbow as he watches Seungcheol chat with Jeonghan. The level of familiarity those two have irks him even though he is convinced Jeonghan is half angel and is in love with Jisoo. He knows it's irrational but still, his mood sours further regardless.

Sarang squeezes between his legs and wraps her short arms around his waist, face buried in his chest. Unable to stay grumpy when there is a small, adorable child hugging him, Jihoon smiles a little and cradles her closer in his arms as she babbles on about how much fun she had with her uncles. 

The front door shuts, echoing quietly through the hall. Seungcheol walks in and stops when he spots his daughter snuggled in with Jihoon. He heads to the stereo system in the corner of the room and cranks the volume as loud as he can without it hurting Jihoon’s sensitive ears. 

Then, he begins to rap. Jihoon watches, completely enraptured, as Seungcheol prowls across the living room as if it were a stage. He is surprisingly good; Jihoon knew he was a producer but he never thought he was able to rap too. He comes to a stop in front of Jihoon and holds out a hand for him to grab. 

“Woozi! Come with!” Sarang jumps off his lap to dance around her dad. When the chorus hits, she goes crazy, flinging her body around and screaming the lyrics. “So call me baepsae!” 

Trying to catch his breath from laughing, Jihoon takes Seungcheol’s hand and lets himself be swung up to his feet. 

Honestly who could resist the any member of the Choi family?

Joining his daughter, Seungcheol dances wildly as Jihoon watches them and tries to keep his giggling to a minimum, a blinding smile stretching it’s way across his face. Sensing eyes on him, he slows his dance and locks his gaze with Jihoon. He tilts his head as if to say, ‘join us’.  

Throwing caution, and all logic, to the wind, Jihoon strikes a pose as the chorus comes back around, “They call me baepsae!” He dives right into the beautiful chaos and scoops up Sarang, swaying to the heavy bass, both of them singing along. 

Sarang is the first to collapse of exhaustion, of course. Jihoon goes next, sprawling out next to her on the carpet, as they giggle breathlessly at Seungcheol. Noticing them on the floor, Seungcheol drops down too. All three of them lay there, breathing hard and sweaty, watching the fan spins above their heads as the music plays on. In by inch Sarang scoots over so that her head is on his shoulder and before he knows it, she falls fast asleep.

Jihoon doesn’t want to wake her; she looks so precious when asleep, soft snores tickling his ears, and he can’t bring himself to move even if his arm feels like it's going to fall out of its socket. He turns his head to see Seungcheol studying him. 

“You have a really nice voice, Jihoon.” he says softly, as to not wake his daughter. Seungcheol’s hair is mussed up in places and his forehead is dotted with sweat, but Jihoon thinks he looks delicious. 

“I used to sing,” he lowers his eyes, not wanting Seungcheol to see the hurt and longing that is sure to shine through. “for Jongil.” 

Collarbones peek out from under his shirt, where the shoulder has slipped off. Jihoon focuses on that. When that doesn’t help, he traces Seungcheol’s frame, from head to toe: wide shoulders, perfectly toned muscles in his arms, thin waist, miles of legs, and large feet.     

“Do you miss it?” 

His heart squeezes when he thinks back to all the days spent perfecting his voice. The lesson he went through and how much trouble he got in when he messed up a note or two. Regardless of all that, he still misses it. Singing was the only thing he had for a long time; it got him through so much, even though his voice was often stolen. Not only that, he misses producing-

“You do, I can tell by the look on your face.” Seungcheol interrupts his thoughts. 

Jihoon snaps his eyes to the other. 

“If you want to, you can - sing, that is. I think you have a beautiful voice.” Jihoon doesn’t know what he sees there, in Seungcheol’s eyes, but it makes him believe his words. Jihoon has lived for a while with Seungcheol had he knows what a good man he is. 

_ He wouldn’t ever do the same thing as Jongil,. He wouldn’t ever take advantage of me _ .

And that thought scares him a little. Not nearly as much as the knowledge of what Jongil did, but almost. The fact that he trust someone else is frightening, and new and probably a good thing. He doesn’t quite know how to deal with it, so he files it away to dwell on later.     

“Thank you,” he smiles. Once he says it, he finds that he actually means it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay for meanie being thrown in there! i wasn't going to put more ships in here but i felt like it was unhealthy if Jihoon didnt have friends, ya know?   
> also i have no idea how long this will be. it was /supposed/ to be a one shot but i got carried away and then i got so much love from you guys so yeah


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while hasn't it???  
> Check the tags before you read~

Being friends with the giants does, in fact, work out. Wonwoo has a similar temperament to him and it’s refreshing to have someone who he can just sit together with. (Seungcheol and Sarang are great, don’t get him wrong, but they are outgoing and full of sunshine - and Jihoon isn’t.) He can talk to Wonwoo about things, like his rut or  _ feelings (‘It’s normal, Jihoon. You should tell Seungcheol, though. He would want to know that he is loved back.’) _ and the fellow cat hybrid knows exactly what he means. The only thing he doesn’t like, is when Mingyu brings out Wonwoo’s mischievous side.   

Mingyu is nice, annoying at times, but overall an enjoyable human to be around. The best thing is he reaches tall shelves for him and has an open policy on piggyback rides - to which Jihoon was skeptical about, but it’s so pleasing to be taller than the others. Seriously, Jihoon can just climb up Mingyu at any point and he doesn't protest or complain. Jihoon does this more than he likes to admit. 

“Jihoon, why don’t you give Mingyu a break?” Seungcheol calls back to where Mingyu is carrying the hybrid as they walk through the store. Sarang peeks around her father so she can watch the hybrids and Mingyu as they lag behind from her position in the shopping cart. . 

Jihoon leans over Mingyu’s shoulder so he can look him in the face. “Do you need a break, Minggu?” he asks, eyes wide.

“No, no, you’re light as a feather.” Mingyu huffs, breathing a little heavy.

Jihoon sticks out his tongue at Seungcheol’s back., winking when Sarang giggles behind her hand. 

“Are you making faces at me, Jihoon?” Seungcheol asks, humor in his voice. He walks around the cart to pick up a bag of rice and places it in the basket before eyeing Jihoon where he is perched on Mingyu.  

“I did no such thing, right Sarang?” Jihoon sinks further down Mingyu’s back, hiding from Seungcheol. 

She shakes her head, hand still clamped over her mouth to stifle her laughter. 

“First you make faces behind my back, and now you teach my daughter to lie. What’s next?” Seungcheol jokes, smile gracing his features. 

“Next is the vegetables,” Wonwoo laughs, commandeering the cart and heading to the other end of the store. 

They stroll through the produce section, Seungcheol throwing various thing into the basket. Jihoon and Mingyu chatter on about the younger’s work and all the drama that goes with his job. 

It isn't until Jihoon catches the aroma of freshly cooked meat as they stand in line to pay, that Jihoon clambers down Mingyu. He stands there, nose in the air, before scurrying down the closest aisle.

“Jihoon!”

The row is crammed full of humans paying cashiers; he has to bob and weave through people, mumbling apologies as he goes. Jihoon ignores the insults and glares thrown at him by the old lady holding a bag of shrimp chips and darts into the open space in front of a small food stall.

Stomach rumbling, he lifts the red tarp and slips inside. The few plastic tables and chairs are mostly empty; only three tables are occupied. Entranced by the heavenly smell of chicken, Jihoon steps up to watch the middle aged human cook, ears perked on his head. He follows the human’s movements as she prepares fish cakes. The lady eyes him suspiciously but doesn’t ask him to leave. 

“Jihoon!” Mingyu gasps, bursting into the tent and rushing to his side. “You can’t just run off like that!” 

“Oh, sorry, I just,” he motions to the array of meat spread out in hot pans. Jihoon doesn’t know why he just took off like that in the first place; he feels stupid for doing it. “I wasn’t thinking.” 

“I get it, but you scared us, Jihoonie.” Mingyu pushes his bangs back and huffs out in relief as he taps away at his phone screen. Patting down his pockets until he finds his wallet, Mingyu frowns when he peers into his. “I only have my card on me.” 

Jihoon’s face falls, tail fluttering in response to the youngers words. He turns away to hide his disappointment from Mingyu, and starts toward the exit. He walks past a few tables before Seungcheol enters the food stall, Wonwoo and Sarang trailing behind him.

Straightening his spine, Jihoon tenses, heart racing. Why exactly, he doesn't know. Probably just a reflex of having to deal with Jongil.  

“Hungry?” Seungcheol asks Jihoon, fishing out his wallet. “‘I’ll buy whatever you want.” 

 Jihoon studies Seungcheol for a moment, trying to piece together what other is thinking. He appears to be unaffected, but smells like alleviation. 

_ Should I take him up on his offer?  _

“The fish cakes look really good.” Jihoon says uncertainly, ears lowered. 

Seungcheol smiles, “You’re right.”

 

Jihoon jolts awake, body covered in sweat and gulping for air. Panic gnawing at his gut, Jihoon scrambles to the bathroom where he dry heaves over the toilet. Once spent, he collapses, back pressed against the coolness of the tub. 

‘ _ Woozi’ _

He pulls his knees to his chest and buries his face into his arms, trying to muffle his cries.   

‘ _ You’re lucky I took you in, you know?’ _

He digs his fingers into the soft flesh around his knees, welcoming the stinging it brings. 

_ ‘No one else wanted you. Hell, if I hadn’t taken you in, they would have put you down.’ _

Heart beating like a trip hammer, he grits his teeth and shakes his head. 

_ ‘You owe me your life. It’s not like anyone else will love you.’   _

He grabs a fist full of hair and tugs. When that doesn’t hurt enough to ground him, he yanks on his ears. 

_ ‘You know what you can do to make it up to me, don’t you?’ _

Whimpering, he slams his eyes shut. Tries to even out his breathing. 

_ It’s just a bad dream. It’s just a bad dream. It’s just a bad dream. _

Seungcheol pops into his head, and Jihoon grabs onto the memory tightly; the elder wraps his arms around Jihoon and hums a tune. Jihoon focuses on this.

Once he is calm and has exhausted himself, he mops up the tears hanging off his chin and sits there, huddled by the tub, nose stuffy and eyes stinging, until his butt starts to go numb. Standing up and splashing water on his face, Jihoon dreads the thought of going back to sleep. Swallowing a renewed sense of anxiety, leaves the bathroom only to stop in the hallway. His limbs ache from just the weight of his bones; his muscles feel like jelly. He can’t go to his own bed, and he won't make it to the livingroom couch. 

As if on autopilot, Jihoon cracks open the door to Seungcheol’s room. The door clicks loudly and Seungcheol stirs. “Sarang?” 

A rush of affection floods over the anxiety at the sound of his groggy voice. He grips the door handle tightly. “It’s Jihoon.”

“Baby? What happened?” Seungcheol shoots up in bed, hand running through his bed hair in alarm. 

“It’s nothing,” Jihoon plays it down, not wanting to worry Seungcheol further. He should have just suffered through it by himself. “just a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He rubs his eyes and suppresses a yawn.  

Jihoon shakes his head, then feels stupid; it's not like Seungcheol can actually see him when it’s this dark. “No.” 

“Do you want to sleep in here tonight then?” He asks, cocking his head to the side and blinking sleepily. 

“Yes.” Jihoon screwed up his face, relieved to know that Seungcheol can’t see him tear up. He pushes the urge down, swallowing hard. 

Seungcheol wordlessly peels back the blanket and sets a pillow aside for him. He waits for Jihoon to drag his drained body across the room before scooching over. 

Crumpling onto the mattress, Jihoon fights to keep his heavy eyes open. He shifts subtly closer to Seungcheol until the other folds them together: legs entwined, Jihoon’s head under his chin, arms around Jihoon’s waist. Face nestled into the elder’s neck, Jihoon mumbles a thank you before sleep pulls him back under. 

Jihoon wakes up not to sunshine or Seungcheol’s smile, but to something prodding his side. Keeping his eyes shut he shifts closer to Seungcheol, hoping that will solve his problem. 

It doesn’t. 

He turns over, using Seungcheol’s arm as a pillow, tail laying over the other’s waist and curls in on himself as he is tugged against Seungcheol’s chest. The mattress dips as someone crawls into bed with them but Jihoon barely registers it. He makes no protest as fingers peels his arms away from his torso and a small body wiggles it’s way into his embrace.

Sandwiched comfortably between two humans, Jihoon only wakes up fully when something featherly tickles his nostrils. Reflexively, he scrunches his face up and wiggles his nose. Cracking one eye open, he his met with a head of black hair. Confused, he cranes his neck to get a better look. He, Seungcheol, and Sarang are slotted together like three spoons in a drawer - Jihoon being the middle spoon. Soft snores sound from the tiny human burrowed in his grasp, echoing the ones coming from behind him, making him smile.  

_ When did my life get like this? _

Warmth swells in his chest, spreading down to his fingertips and toes pleasantly. Jihoon never thought he’d be this happy or even just content with his life. He was sure that’d he’d be stuck for the rest of his life; whether he was with Jongil, or any other abusive asshole really, or at the adoption center. Jihoon pictured himself dying early, alone and unloved, because that's how every hybrid he’s known as gone. But, here he is, bundled up between his two favorite people in the whole world feeling safe and loved. It’s strange how life changes.  

Sarang turns over, blinking up at him, and yawns right in Jihoon’s face, shattering his peaceful moment. Scrunching up his face in disgust Jihoon jerks his head back, accidentally whacking Seungcheol in the chin. 

“Shit, sorry,” Jihoon says, turning his head to see Seungcheol clutching at his face dramatically. 

“Whaaat?” He drags the word out, confusion lighting his tone. Upon seeing his daughter, from where she lay tucked against the hybrid, he peeks over Jihoon’s shoulder. “Sarang? What are you doing here?” 

“Wanted to join the slumber party. Why not invite Sarang?” She pouts, sticking out her lower lip for emphasis. 

Both men are silent, unsure how to proceed with the conversation. Honestly, Jihoon doesn’t know if he's spending the night with Seungcheol, snuggled up and vulnerable, changes anything for them - probably not, he decides. He was just half asleep and scared and Seungcheol has always kept an open door policy with him, which Jihoon’s sleep deprived brain took advantage of. The human probably didn’t think much of it; it only meant a lot to Jihoon because he is just now learning to trust.  

Luckily, Jihoon’s stomach gurgles loudly, distracting Sarang. The tiny human giggles and pokes her index finger into his soft belly. 

“How about we get some waffles?” Seungcheol suggests, quickly diverting his daughter's attention.

It works.    

 

Right on schedule, since he started taking his pills, Jihoon’s rut hits him full force on a Thursday night. 

“I’m not ready,” Jihoon claws at the tail of Seungcheol’s shirt until he finds purchase in the fabric and tugs, shivers racking his body when his knuckles brush against Seungcheol’s skin. 

“I know baby,” the human pats his hand, sympathy shining in his eyes. “Let me call Soonyoung so he can take Sarang, then we can go to the hospital if you want.” 

“Please.” Jihoon whines, shaking his head vehemently; beads of sweat sliding down his temples. “No hospital.” 

“Jihoon,” he drags out his name, hesitant, eyes roaming over Jihoon’s face. “They can help you.” 

“No, no, no,” Jihoon practically begs, words hiccuping between each labored breath. “I don’t want to go.”

Seungcheol studies Jihoon as he writhes around on the bed, cheek rubbing against the fabric. “How about we have Jeonghan and Jisoo come help? Would that be okay?”

“No hospital?” Voice quavering, he swallows around the cotton in his mouth, hand squeezing around the fistfull of fabric. 

“No, baby.” Seungcheol fumbles around for his phone and dials with one hand. He glances back and forth: phone, Jihoon, phone.

Jihoon nods, sweat dripping into his eyes; at least he thinks it's sweat. At this point, it's not like he can tell the difference between sweat or tears. 

“Not unless you’re life is in danger.” Seungcheol says while waiting for whoever to pick up, speaker tilted away from his mouth. Tender uneasiness drips from his voice, “I need to get Sarang ready, will you be okay if I leave you alone for a few minutes?” 

Jihoon forces himself to release his hold on Seungcheol. His hand shakes with the effort and he has to dig his sharp nails into the palm of his hand, drawing a few drops of blood, but he manages.

Seungcheol grimaces, but turns on his heel regardless.

Jihoon focuses on the lingering scent of the elder in consolation, sucking in large gulps of air and letting the heavenly aroma toxicate him further.

Rolling over on his back, he tugs at the neck of his t-shirt. Feeling suffocated, he yanks the fabric over his head, movements jerky. Free from his shirt, he shimmies out of his pants and kick both articles of clothing away from him. He lays there, body on fire and aching, in only his boxers, trying desperately to stay fully lucid when the heat starts to bog his mind down. Jihoon’s hand sneaks down to his crotch, the heel of his hand pressing maddeningly against his dick. Realizing what his body is doing of it’s own accord, he flips back over and shoves his face into the mattress, holding his already arduous breath. When he starts to feel faint, he tilts his head to side to get in a good mouthful of air before holding it in his lungs. This clears his head a little, enough so he isn’t pawing ravenously at himself anymore.  

“He doesn’t look good, Jeonghanie,” Seungcheol’s scents wafts under his bedroom door, and he inhales deep, desperate to feel some of the calm the human brings him. Just the sound of his voice has Jihoon shivering. 

A pause.

Jihoon burrows under the duvet, leaving only his ears to deal with the sudden cold that encompasses Jihoon’s whole being. 

“I think the fever has started.” Jihoon can hear the frown in his voice even as he walks away. “He was half naked a second ago and now he is shaking under the comforter.”        

Soon enough Jihoon hears the front door open, bringing in new pheromones and then taking them (He vaguely registers them as Soonyoung and Sarang.) as it closes once again. 

Encompassed in pitch black, Jihoon feels his eyes slip shut. His eyelashes feel glued together with tears; he couldn’t open them again if he wanted to. 

“Again? I don’t know if I can do this Jeonghan. I almost threw up just hearing him last time.” Seungcheol murmurs, then says: “Baby, I need to feel how hot you are.” 

_ When did he get here? _

Jihoon tries to say  _ ‘yeah, okay _ ’, but his mouth won't open. 

The blanket gets pulled away from his face, the cold air assaulting him. He means to look up at Seungcheol, but he doesn’t; why won't his body listen to him? Ice stings his forehead, and he chokes on his sharp intake of breath, hands shooting up to swat at Seungcheol’s hand. 

“Fuck, okay.” Seungcheol says. Then he’s gone. 

Jihoon slides back under the covers and curls into himself in attempt to regain some of the warmth Seungcheol stole from him a second ago. He shivers, wishing away the goose bumps blooming across his skin.

Once he is lulled into a false sense of security, the blanket is ripped from him. Whimpering, he coils tighter around his knees until Seungcheol’s frigid arms loop under him. Skin raw wherever the human is touching him, fight or flight kicks in. Jihoon thrashes as best he can with the limited energy he posses, jabbing his elbow into the elders solar plexus.

“Baby, baby, please.” Seungcheol chokes out, clinging to Jihoon. “Let me help you, okay? If I don’t do this we’ll have to go to the hospital.” 

“No,” Jihoon breaths out, but he stops fighting the hold Seungcheol has on him. Slumping against the human, he shudders with each sob, the cool air abrading his skin while Seungcheol’s walks hi to another room.

Teeth chattering loudly, and eyes barely cracked, he is placed in the closed lid of toilet. He watches from his hunched over position as a blurry version of Seungcheol tests the water in the bathtub, fingers flicking gently over the surface of the water. 

Dread fills him, head to toe, the urge to run almost overpowering. He knows what awaits him: an all encompassing coldness excruciating enough to freeze his bones, an intense shock of icy water tenacious enough to stop his lungs from working properly, and the physical exhausting of the recovery. 

“Come on, baby.” Seungcheol helps Jihoon stand on weak legs, his hands wrapped around Jihoon’s biceps.  

“P-please,” Jihoon begs, ears pressed down flat, eyes wide and watery. 

Seungcheol grinds his teeth, jaw clenching. 

“It’ll hurt so bad.” His voice wobbles, but by the look of pain that crosses Seungcheol expression, he is heard loud and clear. 

“I’ll help you through it,” the human says into his shoulder as he slides his arms around Jihoon’s waist and hefts him up; Jihoon instinctively clenches his legs around Seungcheol’s hips, arms coming to twine around his neck. “I promise.” 

With Jihoon securely in his arms, Seungcheol steps over the rim of the tub and into the lukewarm water. Carefully he sits down, with Jihoon placed gingerly in between his legs. Seungcheol cups his hands and slowly pours water over the shaking hybrid in his arms. 

At the rush of arctic water Jihoon sputters and tightens his hold on Seungcheol, burying his face into his neck and sinking his briery nails into Seungcheol’s shoulders. His chest aches, from lack of oxygen or the anxiety Jihoon doesn't know, and he can’t help but wail into the human’s embrace. 

After a few minutes of Seungcheol running water down his back steadily, Jihoon turns to rubber in his lap. Body numb, except for the sensation of his heart slamming against his chest, Jihoon inspects the tiles on the wall. He manages to attain a normal, albeit quaky, breathing pattern. Jihoon’s arms drift off the other, his hands dunking close to his legs under the waterline. 

“Better?” Seungcheol whispers, pulling back to look Jihoon in the eye, brows knitted in a deep frown. His eyes are red and shiny; if Jihoon was in a better state of mind, he would recognize the tears weighing his lashes down. Seungcheol has to hold tight unto Jihoon so he doesn't fall over, but Jihoon barely feel the grip he has on him.

“Kinda,” he coaks. Glacial blood still circulates his limbs, but it’s warm where he is touching Seungcheol. 

Keeping one hand on Jihoon, Seungcheol tests the heat of his cheeks with the back of his fingers. Not liking what he feels, the human’s brow puckers further. “Your head is still way to hot, ba-” 

“How is he?” Jeonghan bursts into the bathroom carrying a bag in his left hand. A fellow cat hybrid follows him, scrunching his face up at the scent of Jihoon’s rut. “Is his temperature down?” 

“A little bit yeah, but it’s still higher than it’s supposed to be.” 

“Let me give him this, it should help.” Jeonghan says. There is a pinch in the meaty area of his bicep, but it only last a second. 

They keep talking, the hybrid interjecting here and there, but it’s all hazy in Jihoon’s mind. He sees their mouth moving, and hears the sound of their voices, but his brain refuses to process the words. Collapsing forward onto Seungcheol, he fight to keep his eyes open - to no avail. 

  
  


“I told you already. Jihoon will be fine. Crisis averted and all that.” 

Jihoon opens his eyes to see white. He roams his eyes around until he sees the yellow light in the middle of the ceiling.

“Why isn’t he wake, then, Jeonghan? Jisoo?” Seungcheol demands, voice becoming panicky the louder he gets.

Silence, then, “Jihoon!” Seungcheol’s face pops into view. “Do you feel okay? Can I do anything to help?” 

“You can stop yelling at me,” Jihoon mutters, wincing. 

“Oh, right.” His face falls, then he perks right back up. “I can do that.”

Rueful for snapping at the elder, Jihoon searches for Seungcheol’s hand, wrapping his own around long fingers, and tugs. “Lay with me?” 

Wordlessly, and smiling knowingly, he crawls in next to Jihoon as Jeonghan and Jisoo sneak out, quietly shutting the bedroom door behind them.

Later, after his three caretakers have succeeded in nagging him into eating (He gave in once Seungcheol said he would order him whatever he wanted.), Jisoo pulls him aside in the hallway. “Let's get lunch sometime - like in a few days when you feel up to it.” 

“Won't Seungcheol and Jeonghan be working then?” They had told him he slept a full 24 hours after because of the medications they gave him. If that's true, and there is no reason to believe otherwise, then today was Saturday and a few days from now would be the middle of the week. 

Jisoo’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he laughs quietly, softly, like Jihoon does when Sarang says something cute; Jihoon is not sure he likes to be on the receiving end of it. “Just us, Jihoon. Or, if you prefer, we could bring Wonwoo?” 

“Oh, okay. But how? Don’t we need an owner to be with us?” As far as Jihoon knows, hybrids can’t just walk around unattended.  

“Nope. I know a good hybrid cafe that sells the best coffee.” He says, leaning his hip against the wall.  

“Hybrid cafe?”

“Yeah, it's owned by a human, but it’s run entirely by the owner’s hybrids. Seungcheol is good friends with the owner, Soonyoung, didn't he tell you about it?” He raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“Is it the same Soonyoung that watches Sarang sometimes?” Jihoon has never actually met the guy, but his name is commonplace in his household. Weird. 

“Yeah,” Jisoo nods. “he’s been babysitting Sarang since she was a little baby.” 

“Oh,” he breathes out. Jihoon always assumed Soonyoung started watching Sarang because of him; as far as he knew, he only took her when Jihoon’s rut came around or Seungcheol had to take him to an appointment. 

“I’ll fill you in on anything you want to know.” Jisoo pushes off the wall and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, give me a call, okay?” 

“Okay.” Jihoon never really thought much about it before but now that Jisoo mentioned it, he’s realizing how much he doesn’t know about the people he lives with. He knows Seungcheol is a producer, but he’s never heard anything he made; he has met two of Seungcheol’s friends, but he doesn’t know all the rest; he knows how Seungcheol likes to take his tea and Sarang’s favorite stuffed animal to sleep with, but he doesn’t know anything about Sarang’s mother. Was Seungcheol ever married to her? Was she just a one night stand gone wrong? Besides all that, Jihoon didn’t know there are hybrid run cafes. If they have that, what other freedoms are available to them? 

Jihoon thinks he’ll definitely take Jisoo up on his offer.            

 

Jihoon’s eyes scan over the menu, a little awestruck at how many choices they offer. From milkshakes, to cookies, to brewed to order teas and coffees, it was every person, hybrid’s, or human’s dream cafe. 

“I’ll wait for someone to come take our order, if you want to scope out a place to sit.” Jisoo offers. He leans over the counter a little bit to see if the barista is nearby or not. 

He tells Jisoo his order, caramel macchiato, then wanders off to find a comfy place to sit. Hopping from seat to seat, testing the plushness of the cushions, he finally decides on the largest of the couches and settles into the corner. 

He lets his eyes rove around the room while he waits. The cafe is small and cozy. There fairy lights dancing across the warm plum colored walls, and chalk boards hanging from the wall above the register that list everything they have to offer customers. Couches, loveseats and plush chairs liter the dining area, but booth tables hug the walls. Music plays softly, quiet enough that it doesn’t bother Jihoon’s sensitive ears. The whole place smells like heaven; freshly baked sweets and newly brewed coffee cling to the furniture. Hybrids are seated here and there throughout the cafe, but the majority are settled in the booths. 

Jihoon can just imagine how much Sarang would love this place; her eyes lit with wonder at the fairy lights. She is probably friends with all the regular customers by now, not to mention the staff. Seungcheol and Soonyoung must have their hands full when they bring her over. Jihoon stifles a chuckle at the image of Seungcheol chasing after his daughter, his long limbs being a sever disadvantage.  

“Okay, one caramel macchiato for you,” Jisoo says, drawing Jihoon’s attention and placing Jihoon’s order carefully in his hands before getting situated on the couch. “And a salted caramel hot chocolate for me.”

“Salted hot coco?” Jihoon twists his face up in disgust. Why would anyone want salt in their drink?

“I know, it sounds weird but it's really good, I swear.” He laughs, taking a sip of his drink then placing it on the coffee table in front of them. He leans back against the couch. “So how have you been feeling these past few days?”

“Fine, I guess.” He shrugs and runs his fingers over the bones in his tail. He has been the same as always. 

“No chest pains or really bad headaches?” A dark brown ear atop Jisoo’s head flickers, but otherwise he stays perfectly still.

“Not really.” Jihoon has had a few headaches over the past few days but that could be due to his wisdom teeth hurting. 

“That’s good” he nods. “but if you start feeling weird in anyway, let me know. Okay?” Jisoo says, poorly disguised worry peeking through his expression. 

“Is something wrong with me?” Jihoon asks, stomach rolling. He doesn't even want to think about the doctor bill if something is.

_ If there is something wrong, i’ll just suck it up and pretend i’m fine until it goes away.  _

“No. At least, we don’t think so. Jeonghan and I can only do so much-” Jisoo is cut off abruptly as his name is yelled from a flurry of brown that crashes into Jisoo. 

“It’s been too long! Please tell me you're here to re-apply for a job.” What looks to be another cat hybrid half sobs into Jisoo’s chest. “We need you!”   

Jisoo laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, and pats the smaller boy wrapped around his middle section.  “I missed you too, Seungkwan.”

“Wait,” Seungkwan pops up, straightening out his white dress shirt and black slacks, and looks to Jihoon sharply, his tail sticking straight in the air behind him. “Who is this?” 

He slides over to Jihoon, knees knocking together, and sniffs in his face. “Hey, Minghao! You know this guy?” 

The pretty fox hybrid wiping the tables a few feet from them perks up, stilling his hand where it rest on the table, dish rag folded under his palm. He cocks his head to the left and looks Jihoon over, lips pursed in a confused pout. “Nope, never seen ‘em before.” 

His (Minghao’s?) voice comes out heavily accented but Jihoon understands him perfectly even though he doesn’t recognize the accent. Probably due to all the deciphering one must do when trying to have lengthy conversation with a toddler. Jihoon silently thanks Sarang.     

“Guys this is Jihoon. He’s the one who lives with Seungcheol.” Jisoo waves Minghao over. The other weaves through the various pieces of furniture with practiced ease and sits down in between Seungkwan and Jisoo. “I told you i’d bring him by didn’t I?” 

“This is him?” Seungkwan’s eyebrows raise high, his eye widening, before his expression drops to understanding. He shoots off the cushion, “I’ll go get the rest of the guys.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Jihoon.” Minghao smiles at him, pointy white ears sticking straight up. 

Jihoon bows and mumbles his greeting, suddenly feeling shy as more hybrids approach them. 

Two dog hybrids, both dressed in what seems to be the cafe uniforms - crisp white dress tops and black slacks - trail behind Seungkwan and take a place on the love seat across from them after they greet Jisoo happily. Seungkwan squeezes next to Jisoo once more. The groups chatters with Jisoo, asking him question after question: how he has been, does he like learning from Jeonghan, does he think Wonwoo would be willing to take a few shifts? Jihoon’s ears lift at his friend's name. Did they all know each other? How did that happen? 

“Ah, sorry about that Jihoon.” Jisoo rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “This is Seokmin and Chan.” he points to the two dog hybrids. “And you already met Minghao and Seungkwan. 

“Hello, my name is Jihoon. It’s really nice to meet you all.” Looking around the circle they have formed, Jihoon feels something lodged in his throat. All these warm and open faces have his stomach swelling with something akin to contentment. “So, you all know Wonwoo?”    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sure this is a mess & im sorry but my beta is currently on vacation OTL  
> its spring break so ive been trying to get caught up with all my stories but i really just want to sleep all day tbh  
> anyway, how did you like it?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!!! Sorry it's been so long. I was sick for a week and then i had to do all my make up work from school orz

“We really need to get you a phone.” Seungcheol says. One hand slides down the steering wheel to flick on the turn signal. “I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow. Let’s take Sarang and go shopping.” 

“I really don’t need one though.” Jihoon watches Seungcheol as he pulls to a stop at the traffic light. 

“You don’t want one?” Seungcheol looks at him, eyes flicking back to monitor the light in case it changes. 

It’s not that he doesn’t _ want  _ a cell phone; he does. Jihoon has played with Jisoo’s plenty of times (he particularly enjoys the games. There are so many involving music it makes his head spin.) but he knows they are expensive, not only to buy one but to keep. Seungcheol can afford it he knows, because Jisoo told him so, but Jihoon would feel weird about having the other spend so much money on him. He has never personally owned anything worth that much (Honestly, everything he owned pre-Seungcheol could fit in a small bag and was worth less than 20,000₩.). Jongil had him use expensive sound boards and other various producing equipment but it was never  _ his.  _ Jihoon always had to relinquish his hold on them; most days he was ecstatic to be rid of the instruments but some days, when he really needed the music to calm him down, it was torture to give them up. Like a chunk of something vital was being ripped from him.

“Not really,” Jihoon shrugs, trying to keep it casual. 

“Well, i’ll get one for you anyway. You don't have to use it, just keep it with you in case you need it, okay?”

“I really don’t need it. I’m always with someone who has one, you know.” he says, ears ticking along with the turn signal. 

“Just in case Jihoon. It’ll make me feel better, hmm?” 

“Alright.” Jihoon watches the light turn green. He’s secretly pleased by Seungcheol’s insisting; it leaves a pleasant hum in his belly.

They pull up to the cafe, Seungcheol steering the car close to the curb so Jihoon can hop out. “I should be back from Jooheon’s house in an hour or so. I’ll let Jisoo know if i’m running late.”

Jihoon nods, suppressing his dissatisfaction and closing the passenger side door. That’s the third time this week Seungcheol has hung out with this Jooheon guy. 

“Have fun!” Seungcheol ducks down so he can see Jihoon through the passenger side window. 

Jihoon waves, then walks into the cafe to find his friends. He pauses at the door to watch Seungcheol’s car disappear around the corner. 

“Jihoon!” Seungkwan hollers across the coffee shop, ignoring the annoyed glances tossed his way. “Over here!”

As if he could miss them; Jisoo and Wonwoo are on the large couch, Seungkwan standing by the armchair waving like a madman, and Seokmin beaming so much literal sunshine at him from the loveseat that he has to squint against the rays of his smile. He waves to Minghao and Chan, who stay behind the counter, the puppy hybrid taking orders while the fox mixes drinks, because  _ someone  _ has to cater to the customers (Unlike Seungkwan and Seokmin, who are indeed in uniform but are lounging around instead of helping their coworkers.), as he passes.

“The usual?” Minghao asks over the noise of the blender.

“Please,” he smiles back, loving the fact that the fox remembers. It's new and strange, having friends, but he finds himself enjoying it more and more. 

“Aren’t you two supposed to be working?” Jihoon says, weaving through tables and chairs to reach their spot. 

“I’m on break, but Kwannie isn’t” he side eyes his coworker.  

Seungkwan shrugs. “They’ll be fine for a few more minutes.” 

Jisoo shakes his head disapprovingly but says nothing. He’s secretly glad Seungkwan is shirking his duties; the kid is pretty funny.

Jihoon plops down in the armchair before Seungkwan can sit there first. Seungkwan huffs and gets situated by Seokmin instead. He turns to Jihoon with a cheeky look. “So have you confessed to Seungcheol yet?”

He takes it back. Seungkwan is not funny at all.    

Jihoon almost scoffs at him.  _ Of course  _ Jihoon hasn't confessed. He’s not an idiot. He knows better than to put himself in such a position. But that doesn't mean he hasn’t wanted too because he has. A lot. It’s gotten so bad he even wrote a song for him because he didn’t know what else to do.  

“Pass.” One down; the group has a that you can ‘pass’ certain topics if they make you uncomfortable, but only 3 times a day. It’s kinda dumb, in his opinion, but he still uses it. The group has been using it since they first met each other though. So who is he to try to change their habits?   

“Do you ever dream about him?” Seokmin pipes up, eyes wide. This technically counts as a different topic. 

“Pass,” he frowns. Two down. 

He has.  Only once, though, and it wasn’t anything  risqué. In fact it was a nightmare. In the dream something happened to Seungcheol - he can't remember what exactly. Something about a car. He just recalls the sense of loss that had wrenched his gut until he curled up with Seungcheol in the elder’s room. 

“Do you think about kissing him all the time?” back to Seungkwan.

Not all the time. Not when he’s with Sarang. Which may or may not be the reason Jihoon has been spending such a huge amount of time with the tiny human - to avoid his feelings.   

“Pass,” Jihoon looks to Jisoo to see if he’ll object. He doesn't (although he looks mildly guilty for it.). 

Seungkwan smirks, posture relaxed. “Gotcha.” 

Dammit. He should have suspected something fishy was going on when Jisoo didn’t play the peacekeeper. Jihoon looks around at his circle of friends, noting the satisfied look of them. The bastards must have teamed up. “Hasn’t a few minutes passed?” 

They ignore him.  

“Why won't you make a move on Sungcheol? It’s been months already since you figured out your feelings and we’ve all told you how he feels.” Wonwoo asks, deep voice tickling Jihoon’s ears into twitching. “It’s not like it's a secret or anything.”  

When Jihoon opens his mouth, Seokmin waves a finger in his face before he can even udder a syllable. “You used all your passes! You have to answer this time.”  

Jihoon sighs. Seokmin is wrong; Jihoon doesn't have to do anything. He could sit in silence until they gave in and changed the subject or get up and go sit with the pretty lion in the corner (she has been sending him looks for the past week. So he doesn’t think she would mind). He thinks he might do just that, but then he thinks about how serious his friends are if they roped Jisoo into allowing all the deceit. He sighs. “I’m pretty sure he has someone he is interested in and it’s not me.”

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo asks, brow puckered. He rests an elbow on his knee as he questions Jihoon. 

“He’s been hanging out with some guy named Jooheon.” Jihoon shrugs, feigning indifference. “That’s where he is right now.”

“What? I'm calling that asshole right now!” Seungkwan reaches for his cell phone, but Jihoon manages to grab his arm before he dials. 

“Don’t. It’s none of our business who he is with.” Jihoon says quietly.  

Seungkwan studies Jihoon’s pleading look before giving in. “Fine, I won’t call him.”

“Thank-” he starts, thinking it was a done deal and Seungkwan was being suspiciously gracious. He should have known better. 

“If you answer another question.” He raises his voice over Jihoon’s premature gratitude. 

Jihoon ponders the quickest, least messiest way to kill Seungkwan. He’d have to find a way to get past Hansol, probably, since there are too many witnesses here.  

“He’s ruthless,” Jisoo mutters to Wonwoo. Jihoon is pretty sure he sees Jisoo shuddering out of the corner of his eye,   

“I-” he starts to protest, but stops once Seungkwan starts to dial. ”fine.” Jihoon sits back, arms crossed over his chest sulkily, and looks over to where Minghao and Chan are serving customers. He wonders idly if the fox has made his order yet. “What do you want to know?”

“How have you been feeling lately? And don’t give us that half-assed ‘i'm fine’ crap, Jihoon.” Wonwoo speaks up. 

He should have let Seungkwan call. Honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? Seungkwan could call, demand where Seungcheol is and why? Would that have been so bad? Jihoon thinks he miscalculated.   

“I really am fine, though.” he mutters, shuffling to press his back against the cushions. He is getting sick of hearing that question. “I think the medication is working really well.”    

His last rut was fairly painless, considering his past experiences. Uncomfortable as hell, definitely, but significantly less insufferable than previous times (He shudders, thinking on the bathtub chronicles.). Seungcheol was amazingly supportive through it all; Jihoon was pampered: unlimited cuddles (not that there is usually a restriction on snuggling; Seungcheol was just more openly affectionate when he thought Jihoon needed it, when Jihoon cries.), being waited on hand and foot, and he got to eat his favorite meals. 

“Wait, Jisoo, as his unofficial nurse, will you shed some light on why Jihoon has such a hard time?” Wonwoo asks, completely serious, brow furrowed. 

Jihoon watches Seungkwan and Seokmin give each other  _ the look  _ before bursting into giggles. Rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, Jihoon represses his own amusement; if the pun had been at someone else's expense, he would be enjoying the moment. Somehow it's no longer funny when it’s directed at him.

It takes a moment but then Wonwoo, realizing what he said, joins in . Jisoo smothers a smirk, and whacks Wonwoo in the arm. Gasping Wonwoo says, “Sorry, Jihoon, it just popped out.”     

“Anyway. I’m not a nurse like Jeonghan, you guys. He just teaches me important stuff because I think it's interesting. So,” Jisoo redirects their attention and switches into Teacher Mode™ “there are two main reasons why Jihoon has such bad ruts. One, he is so tiny. Hybrids aren’t meant to be his size but for whatever reason, he ended up this small. The more I think on it, the more I believe he must have been bred down. You said your mother was on the smaller side, yes?”

“Mhm,” Jihoon confirms with a nod. “As far as I can remember,”

“I looked it up awhile ago - bred down hybrids - and the death rate is pretty high. Like most die before they can even out on a normal rut schedule. Their bodies just can’t handle it. Jihoon is the same size as most of the bred down hybrids i’ve seen. It’s really lucky that Jihoon is still alive, let alone relatively healthy, considering that 85% the ones his size are dead..”

Jihoon wonders if his doctor has told Seungcheol about this. 

“Our Jihoonie is amazing.” they say in chorus.

“So what's the second reason?” Seokmin asks. 

“The second reason is the environment he was brought up in. The longer you are in the system, the harder it is for the hybrid to take on it’s rut or heat. It’s too toxic an environment for them to properly grow- too stressful. The system is notorious for its shitty healthcare.” Jisoo says. He leans forward and takes a sip of his iced coffee. 

“Well, for years I lived with Jongil.” Jihoon corrects without thinking. 

“That doesn’t make sense then. Why didn’t you get help while you were with him.?” Wonwoo says quizzically. Everyone turns to look at Jihoon, curiously.

“He thought it was gross.” Jihoon shrugs, inspecting his lap. He doesn't like to speak of his time with jongil, but he's way past crying over it. “If I didn’t hide it, he locked me in the closet. A few times though, the neighbors heard me screaming. He had to let the ambulance take me to the hospital. Boy was he pissed when we got home.” 

Silence. 

Jihoon looks up to find looks of horror on his friends faces. Seungkwan looks pissed more than anything, but everyone else has mixture of pity and shock written all over them. They all stink of it. Maybe he should have kept his shitty past to himself, fuck. 

“Oh, Jihoon,” Jisoo frowns, ears pressed down against his hair, a heartbroken look shadowing his beautiful features. 

Jihoon tries to sweep it all under the rug quickly, eyes wide. “It was nothing. I got put in the system after a few times-”

“Who is this bastard?” Seungkwan demands, face tinted an angry shade of red, shooting off the couch. His ears and tail are sticking straight up in the air, and Jihoon is sure if he had fur, it would be too. He is so worked up, his chest is heaving with every breath. “Tell me right now so I can go beat some sense into that  _ monster.  _ How dare he? _ ” _

“Shit, for once I actually agree with Kwanie.” Seokmin says. It’s odd to see him with a straight face. Jihoon is so used to him smiling and being a ray of sunshine in general. 

“Guys, it’s okay, I’m fine.” he says. Jihoon just wants to forget it, wants his friends to be happy again. If he keeps down playing it, maybe it’ll be forgotten and they can move on to better things to chat about.  

“Fine? Okay? Jihoon! He would have let you die!” Seungkwan yells, baring his teeth. He starts pacing back and forth in front of the couch. Seokmin folds his legs under him so they don't get trampled.  

“Shhh,” Jihoon glares at him for making a scene in the cafe. A few customers eye them, ears twitching in their direction. “Calm down. It’s over. I’m with Seungcheol now and he treats me very well.”

“Does he know? Seungcheol, I mean.” Wonwoo speaks up. At least he looks normal. Jihoon can still see sadness in his set of his shoulders though. 

“I haven’t told him.” The human never asked about who he lived with prior to adopting him, so Jihoon never brought it up. It’s a good thing he hadn’t; if his friends reacted so strongly, what would Seungcheol do? 

“Told who what?” Minghao asks, his accent rounding the words cutely, as he sets down Jihoon’s order. He sits on the armrest to Jihoon’s left.

Chan walks up behind him wiping his hands on a dishrag. “What’s with this atmosphere? Did something happen?”

“We just found out Jihoon lived with an abusive asshole.” Seungkwan says, gesturing wildly. 

“And Seungcheol doesn’t know yet.” Seokmin finishes. 

“Oh man, Seungcheol is gonna murder whoever hurt Jihoon.” Chan says as he steals Seungkwan’s seat. 

“He’ll have to get there before we do. We’ve all agreed to at least maim Jongil, if not kill the man.” Wonwoo points out. Even Jisoo nods to this. 

“Damn, it must have been ridiculously bad if Jisoo is condoning violence.” Minghao says. 

“I’ll pray for forgiveness later,” Jisoo offers lightly. Everyone laughs, the edges of the conversation having been softened a little bit.

 

* * *

 

 

   Jihoon screeches to a halt in the parking lot of his dentist office. Noticing how sweaty his hands are, he wipes them on his jeans before wringing his tail roughly.  

Seungcheol stops a few feet ahead, right in front of the door, and turns around when he doesn’t see Jihoon in the reflection of the glass door. “Jihoon?” 

“I don’t think I can do this.” he swallows thickly around the tremble of his voice. A heavy stone has settled uncomfortably in his stomach. It rolls each time he thinks of walking another step. He glares at his feet, feeling betrayed. _ Move,  _ he tells them in his head.

Seungcheol abandons his position and closes the distance between them. When he is near enough, he tilts Jihoon’s face, lifting his chin with one finger. Sincere as ever, he says, “Baby. You know I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”  

Jihoon searches Seungcheol’s eyes, the dark brown of his irises, for any hint of doubt in himself. He finds none, only what he thinks is soft admiration. “I know,” 

“But?” Seungcheol raises his eyebrows.

“But what if they won't let you be with me the whole time?” Jihoon fidgets in place. He’s just being a scaredy cat, and it’s embarrassing, but he can’t help it. He’s never had anyone take anything out of his body - ever. It’s a frightening thought; the doctor is going to rip his back teeth out.

Seungcheol cups his cheeks, rubs the pad of his thumbs across his cheekbones. “I really don’t think that's going to happen. But if it does, then we can leave and i’ll reschedule with another dentist. Sound good?”

And just like that, Jihoon feels better. There is still uneasiness running through him - what if he's lying? - but it’s small and ridiculous enough that he can swallow it down. “Yeah.”  

Seungcheol is ridiculously good at this, at calming Jihoon down and easing his fear. He supposes it’s just because Seungcheol is so used to taming a wild toddler, though. It must come with the territory of being a dad - the ability to placate others. 

The other leans down to plant a kiss on his forehead, then steps away. He waits a few minutes, letting Jihoon take a moment. “Are you ready now?” 

“As i’ll ever be, i guess.” he slides his hand into Seungcheol’s large one. 

 

***

Jihoon slides across the backseat of the car easily, the fabric of his pants not catching on the leather, as the human turns a sharp corner. He giggles wildly, letting the laws of motion manhandle his body. He crashes against the side door, face pressed against the window. 

“Dammit Jihoon! Put your seatbelt back on right now!” the human yells at him. 

Jihoon doesn’t pay him any attention. He watches the blurry shapes race past the glass, the sun peeking in and out from behind the indistinguishable objects. The man speaks up again. Jihoon ignores him. 

After an eternity the world stops spinning outside. Jihoon pouts. He wants to see the sun dance once again. Instead the car door opens. He careens toward the pavement, his stomach plummeting, but the human catches him and rearranges him so he is seated properly with the seatbelt strapped snuggly across his chest. “Alright, Jihoon. Please, please, please, don’t take this off again, okay?”

Even with the muscles in his face pulled taunt, the man is devastatingly good-looking. Sharp jaw, wide eyes, straight nose and strong cheekbones. Nice pillowed lips. Dimples.  _ Like Seungcheol. _

He nods floppily twice, then freezes and lets his head loll to one side. His tongue feels like lead and it's difficult to talk around the cotton in his mouth. He slurs out a question anyway. “How do ya know my name?” 

“It’s me, Seungcheol.” 

That can’t be right. He looks and smells like Seungcheol and he sounds like Seungcheol but Jihoon doesn’t believe it. Nothing makes sense but Jihoon is dizzy with the leftover anesthesia so he decides to just go with the flow.

Jihoon shuts his eyes and hums, smiling. “Seungcheol is amazing.”

“Right,” he breaths, a little slack-mouthed. “I’m going to finish driving, okay? Stay still. We are almost home.” 

_ Home.  _

At first he thinks of the apartment Jongil owns. Of times closeted the apartment Jongil owns: the fancy furniture, the studio room, the dark closet. Especially the dark closet. But then he recalls his room at Seungcheol’s place. Fluffy pillows. Sunshine through his curtains. Finding stuffed animals in random spots. Snuggling on the couch with Seungcheol and Sarang. Seungcheol.   

He hears the door shut and reopen as the human gets back into the driver's seat, feels the car lurch forward once again. Buzzes along with the vibrations from the engine, almost lulling him to sleep. He starts to drift off, but then remembers he was talking about Seungcheol. “He’s tall and handsome and treats me so well.” 

He thinks he hears a laugh. “Is he?”

“Mhmm,” satisfied with himself for letting this human know about Seungcheol, Jihoon falls off into sleep. 

When he comes to next, he’s cradled in the Fake Seungcheol’s arms. They are moving upward steadily, each step up rocking Jihoon against the man’s chest. He opens his eyes and watches the lights pass overhead. They level out soon and walk down a long hallway. The stop in front of apartment 309. The man kicks at the door, then glances down at him, startles a little to see Jihoon looking right back at him. 

The door swings open suddenly, revealing a blonde man with small eyes. “Sarang’s taking a nap.”  

Jihoon frowns. “Where’s Jisoo?”

They enter the apartment together, the man carefully clutching him closer so his feet or head won't bump the door frame.. The man holding him places him gently on the couch in the living room. He feels like he’s floating, body untethered to the ground as soon as he can’t feel arms around him.

“He’s at his house.” Fake Seungcheol says. He sits down next to Jihoon.

“I miss him.” Jihoon really does. It’s been  _ forever. _ Why isn’t Jisoo with him right now? He should be here. 

“Why? You just saw him yesterday, Jihoon.” 

“He’s my best friend!” he wails, ears glued to his skull. The other cat hybrid always takes care of him even though Jihoon is older. Jisoo introduced him to all his friends, besides Wonwoo, and worries about him when he is being distant. Jihoon has never had someone like that before. Tears start to choke him. His voice quavers. “He’s my best friend!” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll make sure he visits you soon.” Laughter sounds, but he doesn’t know who it comes from. It doesn’t matter. Jisoo is gonna visit him.  

“Do you need me to take Sarang for the night? It look’s like you’ve got your hands already full.” This from the new guy who is somewhere behind him.   

“You are a lifesaver, Soonyoung!” Fake Seungcheol gets up and stands on the opposite side of the couch, disappearing from Jihoon’s line of sight. “Jihoon was a menace on the way home. Kept unbuckling and sliding across the seats while I was driving. It scared me half to death!” 

More laughter. They keep talking.

Jihoon rolls over the edge of the couch, having forgotten all about his best friend for the moment, and lands on all fours. He crawls stealthily past the t.v. and enters the hallway. He makes it all the way to the end, where all the rooms are. Passing the first two doors he doesn’t hesitate to go into the third on the right. He bypasses the bed and heads straight for the guitar placed in the stand. 

“Jihoon!” the man from earlier who mentioned Seungcheol sounds panicky. Doors open and slam.   

He lifts the instrument as carefully as he can, but still manages to send the guitar stand crashing. Jihoon leaves it where it lay. Crossing his legs underneath himself, he places the guitar victoriously across his knee and plucks at the strings randomly for a second, testing them. Once he approves of the sound, he plays the opening chords of his song. Then, he sings what he can remember:

 

“ _ So what I mean is, I want to know all of you _

_ I’ll sing you, U-hoo, I’ll sing you, U-hoo _

_ Even if my lips are dry, I need to say this baby _

_ I adore you, I adore you, enough to get dizzy _

_   
_ _ (Adore you) these days. I (these days) _

_ (Adore you) these days, I (these days) _ “ 

 

Both humans rush into the room Jihoon is in but stays frozen in the doorway. He sees them from the corner of his eye but carries on without missing a beat. 

 

“You can lean right here   
You can cover your pain with me”

  
He speeds up the tempo a bit and tries to rap the next part, keeping his gaze focused on nothing; the words might be warped by his high, but if they are he can’t tell. 

 

“ _ Tell me your feelings _ _   
_ _ Don’t hold back, it’s not enough _ _   
_ _ Can’t fake it no more _ _   
_ _ Crank up the speed _ _   
_ _ Stop playing hard to get _ _   
_ __ Now let me call you ”

 

The two by the entry way gasp in surprise.

 

“ _ Baby you’re my angel, _ ”

 

The crescendo of the song breaks with Jihoon hitting a high note on ‘angel’ seemingly effortlessly. His voice is clear and sweet - perfect for this song.   

 

_ “I want to know all of you _ _   
_ _ I’ll sing you, U Hoo, I’ll sing you, U Hoo _ _   
_ _ Even if my lips are dry, I need to say this baby _ _   
_ _ I adore you, I adore you, enough to get dizzy _ _   
_ _   
_ _ (Adore you) these days. I (these days) _ _   
_ __ (Adore you) these days, I (these days ” 

 

Silence falls in the room, but not for long. Jihoon takes the opportunity to slump down to the floor. He take the guitar with him, wrapping his body around it as if he were trying to absorb it into his skin. Even his tail is hooked in the sound hole in the guitar’s body.  

“Did you know he could do that?” says the blonde guy. It’s hushed, like a stage whisper. Jihoon thinks his name was Soon-something. “Man I want what he had.  

“Uh, Jihoon?” The man who looks like Seungcheol says. 

“Shhhh! It’s a secret.” he stage whispers. Jihoon waves an arm above his head to get the humans to shut up. Because of his foggy brain he forgot that he wasn’t supposed to do this - sing and play instruments. He just really needed to get the song off his chest. “Don’t tell Jongil. He’ll be so, so, so, so mad at me.”

Fear zings down his spine at the thought. As if shocked, he abandons the instrument in his arms and scrambles away so fast and wildly that he crashes into the wall behind him. Knees scrunched up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, Jihoon hides the lower half of his face behind his appendages. 

“You know who that is?” Soon-something says. 

The person who carried him approaches Jihoon, who flinches violently at the hand drawing near, lightly before bending down in a squat and running his fingers through Jihoon’s hair. He pays special attention to the spot just behind his ear, which lay flat, just like Seungcheol often does; it calms Jihoon down quickly. Once he is deemed placid enough, the hand disappears from his ear. 

_ Seungcheol.  _

“No idea. But I don’t think I like h-.” 

Jihoon pushes a finger to the man's lips, shamelessly cutting him off mid sentence. Relaxing his legs, he reclines his head against the wall. 

“You can’t tell Seungcheol either.” Jihoon sing-songs lightly before turning serious. He looks between them both pleadingly. “You gotta promise not to tell him.”  

“Why?” He is too tired to figure out who asked; there is a buzzing sound ricocheting through his head. Jihoon’s clothes suddenly feel too tight. 

“Because I love him..” Jihoon rolls his eyes as if this much was abundantly clear.  _ Of course  _ he loved Seungcheol; how could he not? He bends over and tugs his socks off,  “It’s all for him because I love him but I’m not allowed to write anymore and” Jihoon chucks the socks sulkily across the room - one lands on Soon-something’s foot. “Seungcheol has a boyfriend and nobody will love me.”

Silence again. 

“You do?” surprise curls around the words. The blonde tilts his head at Fake Seungcheol accusingly, then bends down to remove the offending sock. He holds the material between his thumb and forefinger, face twisted in mild disgust, and flicks it away.  

“Of course not!” Fake Seungcheol rockets to his feet and throws his hands up defensively as if he could physically toss the words away from him. 

While the human’s attention are on each other, Jihoon begins yanking the collar of his shirt over his head. The fabric catches on his ears briefly. 

“Well, why does he seem to think so then?” the other sasses back. The humans yammer way while Jihoon keeps busy. 

Once free, Jihoon brushes the shirt away from him and starts to unbutton his jeans. Fingers clumsy and bumbling, it takes him a few tries but eventually the waist pops open. He lets out a cheer, “Yay!”, and starts to shimmy out of his pants; they get caught around his ankles making him fall over and kick them the rest of the way off.   

Both humans turn at the sudden sounds of Jihoon’s body thumping on the ground and his troubled grunts. They watch him squirm in place as he fights with his pants. Jaws drop. 

Jihoon kicks his trousers away from him triumphantly. He glances over at the two dumbfounded men and smiles, letting all his teeth on display as his eyes crinkly at the corners. This seems to break the spell holding the humans in place.  

“Jihoon!” Fake Seungcheol rushes over to Soon-something and slaps a hand over his eyes. “Put your clothes back on!” 

“Don’t wanna,” Jihoon outs, shakes his head, and stretches out on the floor. He leaves his boxers on (much to the human’s relief). Inching his butt closer to the wall, he throws his feet up on the wall. The thin boxers he is wearing bend to gravity’s will and bunch up at the conjuncture where leg meets hip, exposing milky thighs, and maybe a little bit of his asscheek, for all to see.

A sharp intake of breath. Then, “He’s trying to kill me, I swear to god.” 

“Well, I think that’s my cue to leave.” Soon-something laughs, turning toward the hallway. He waves a hand over his shoulder as he pulls the door to. “I’ll go get Sarang. Text me in the morning.” 

Fake Seungcheol sticks his head and shoulders through the small space between the door and the doorframe to call out, “Mhm, drive safe! Tell Sarang bye for me!”. Then he lets the door click shut and faces him. Jihoon tilts his head back to watch their interaction from upside down and giggles.

Back pressed against the door, the human stares at him for a moment, then sighs long and loud. “What am I going to do with you, Jihoonie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it???


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! I'm back from the dead!!!   
> As usual, this isn't really edited so sorry abt that   
> For those who are triggered by verbal abuse, be careful reading!

Sunlight leaks through the thin curtains and shines across Jihoon’s face, causing his eyes to flutter open. Vision clearing, after a few languid blinks Seungcheol’s sleeping face materializes an inch or two away from his: long nose, thick lashes, plush lips. Jihoon gulps over the sudden knot lodged in his throat. His human cuts and impressive side profile., sharp and handsome. Jihoon has half a sleepy mind to reach out and trace along the curves of Seungcheol’s face, but he shuts that idea down quickly. 

He and Seungcheol are almost completely intertwined. He is tucked into Seungcheol’s side, head pillowed on the others chest, right hand clutching the fabric of Seungcheol’s shirt. Jihoon’s right leg is slotted between thighs, while Seungcheol has one leg hooked over Jihoon’s waist so that his much smaller body is snuggly, but comfortably, encompassed in Seungcheol’s grasp. 

Shifting away from the other a little, Jihoon realizes he’s practically naked. The fabric on his skin is Seungcheol’s, not his own. He’s got boxers on (he mentally thanks any and all higher powers) and, strangely enough, one sock, but that’s it. He huffs out a relieved sigh. At least he wore boxers instead of his usual pair of briefs, he thinks as his cheeks flame up.  

Disoriented, he desperately searches his memory for any clues as to what happened yesterday. He remembers going into the dentist, even if he didn't he still feels the soreness in his jaw, but after that it’s a vague. Flashes of a car ride, being carried up stairs, and a stranger are all that remains of the day before. Jihoon can't decide if that's a blessing or a curse. A little of both, probably. 

It’s warm and cozy where he is held fondly against the human but for some reason it leaves his chest aching. Seungcheol isn’t interested in him; if anyone else was laid out next to the human, he would be cuddling them too. Shit, Jihoon could probably sneak a pillow in his place and Seungcheol wouldn’t even notice his absence. He knows this and yet he still can't help but savor his position for a few minutes. 

Eventually Seungcheol starts to stir. His nose scrunches up cutely and his lashes flutter against his cheekbones. The sight melts Jihoon’s heart; he feels privileged to be able to witness it. However, panic grips him when sleepy, half mast eyes meet his. 

Jihoon is dressed skimpily and wrapped around the human - this might be the most intimate they have ever been.  All the close touches during his heat make his tummy tingle pleasantly whenever he thinks on them, just like how he feels now, but it’s different. Jihoon has no shame in those moments, his mind scattered in the wind by carnality, caution banished without thinking of the consequences, just clinging to the human almost frantically. 

But now, in the early morning light, Jihoon is fully conscious of the situation he is in, the way their bodies are woven together, and is scared of the human’s reaction. This isn’t because of his rut. The anesthesia has left his system as far as he can tell. Nothing, other than Jihoon’s free will, is keeping him in place. 

Seungcheol’s eye widen in shock.

And that’s all it takes to send Jihoon running. 

He shoves himself away from Seungcheol wordlessly. Only he miscalculates the distance he was from the edge of the mattress and starts to tumble over the side. He yelps in surprise as his hands grasp air instead of plush cushions. Then large hands are around his chest, catching him before he collides with the floor and yanking him back into Seungcheol’s embrace. 

“Shit, Jihoon, are you okay?” the human breathes. His words tickle Jihoon’s fuzzy ears. 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” It comes out muffled by the other’s chest. It’s not really a lie. He’s lightheaded and can taste fresh blood in his mouth, but he can handle it. 

“Why were you trying to leave like that?” Seungcheol sounds a little breathless, which doesn’t make any sense; Jihoon was the one who almost plummeted to his death.  

“I just - I’m sure you don’t want a naked hybrid clinging to you.” He pulls back, slowly this time having learned his lesson, and keeps his eyes trained on his fingers as they stroke the length of his white tail. 

“I don’t mind. If I did, I wouldn’t have let you wander around like that yesterday or let you sleep in my bed all night.” Seungcheol says and shrugs. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before, anyway, Jihoon. Besides, you had underwear on the whole time so...”     

“Oh my god.” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut. Jihoon knows his face must be a bright cherry red by now; he hunches over, hands shielding his face from the embarrassment. He was bare-skinned for that long? Jihoon could just kick himself for acting so ridiculous. “Did Sarang see me?” 

“Nah, Soonyoung took her so I could watch over you properly.” 

“Thank god,” he sighs out. 

“Do you remember anything?” Seungcheol says carefully, with odd spaces between the words like he’s reluctant to breach this topic. Jihoon tweaks the white ears atop his skull curiously.. 

“Nothing.” a moment’s pause, then he snaps his head up.. He keeps his hands over his face but spreads his fingers so he can peek out at Seungcheol to gauge his reaction. “Why? Did I do anything weird?”

“Other than strip down to your boxers and run around the apartment naked while adamantly refusing to put clothes back on?” Seungcheol’s lips twist up wryly. 

Jihoon should just drop it. He would probably be better off not knowing how much of an ass he made of himself. But it’s important that he hears about last night so he can do damage control. “Yes, other than that.”

“I’ll tell you everything after you rinse your mouth with saltwater, okay?”

Jihoon nods. 

The human shuffles out of bed and heads toward the door. “Sit tight while I get the stuff since you’re supposed to be on bed rest.” 

Jihoon sits in the silence while the human gets all the supplies, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He fiddles with his fingers, trying to distract himself from agonizing over the worst case scenario. It doesn't work.

Seungcheol returns shortly with everything and helps him rinse his mouth without too much spillage. When he is satisfied that Jihoon has done it thoroughly enough he pops out the room to clean up. 

Mouth stinging, Jihoon slowly lowers himself back onto the pillows and snuggles farther into the covers. His eye slip closed as he cautiously prods his jaw, cataloging the most sensitive spots. He flinches when the pads of his fingers reach the back sides of his face but only stops when large hands redirects his fingers to his lap.  

“You shouldn't do that.” Seungcheol scolds gently, a strange look fixed on his face. Jihoon thinks he's gonna fuss at him for poking at the wounds some more but he doesn't. “You really didn't do anything too wild, all things considered. I mean you definitely were full of surprises but it wasn't anything bad.” 

Jihoon eyes him warily. He doesn't like the sound of that. “What kind of surprises?” 

For a moment Seungcheol hesitates, mouth pursing briefly. Jihoon gets the feeling that he’s debating with himself over something. 

“Well, you said Jisoo was your best friend, but all this time i thought you were closer with Wonwoo. You can be so sneaky, I swear if I took my eyes off you for a second, you’d be gone the next.”  Seungcheol puff up his chest proudly and teases, “And i’m tall and handsome apparently.” 

“oh my god,” Jihoon yanks the blankets up to shield himself from the embarrassment. Too focused on his half confession, Jihoon doesn’t hear the odd way Seungcheol’s sentences hang at the end. Later, when he thinks back to this moment, he’ll recognize the strange quality the human has to his voice as lying by omission but not now. 

“why are you hiding from me?” 

Seungcheol laughs, attempting to peel back the cover. There's so much warmth in his voice, jihoon almost lets him. 

“Because! I can't believe I said that!” he hollers through the thick fabric as he sets to work cocooning himself. He tucks all the edges underneath himself, taking care to cover his tail, even though it's getting uncomfortably stuffy. He imagines denying the statement, but he doesn’t want the human to get offended. Better to just suffer, he decides.

“Jihoon,” the older boy drags out his name childishly, a frown evident in his tone. “There's no need to hide from me.” 

He's right, but Jihoon still can't bring himself to look him in the eye. He burrows deeper. 

“Fine,” the human huffs.

Then silence. 

The mattress dips suspiciously and a leg is thrown over his waist. An arm snakes its way under Jihoon’s head and another drags his petite frame to a hard chest. It feels as if an octopus is attacking him, arms and legs sucking him in; he tries to stifle a giggle, but fails. His human really is silly. 

_ His human.  _

“You were -are- too cute, honestly.” Seungcheol rests his chin on the top of Jihoon’s head - he can feel it through the blanket. When he speaks next, it's quiet, almost like he was speaking to himself and didn't intend for Jihoon to hear it too. “I just would’ve liked to hear it from you when you weren’t under the influence.” 

Jihoon feels sweat roll down his back. 

 

* * *

 

“Okay, if everyone is here then let’s head out.” Jeonghan announces, clapping his hands twice, over the chatter of the thirteen people currently in Jihoon’s living room. It’s stuffy in the apartment with everyone cluttered together, and the suit and tie he’s been forced into isn’t helping him cool down. 

Neither is the tiny human suckered on to him. Nope, Sarang is content to cling to his torso, even when Seungkwan nags her about the wrinkles forming in the expensive fabric of her dress. Soonyoung tries to save him at some point, but Sarang smushes her face into his neck with a small, defiant ‘No Uncle Soon’, to which his new friend lifts his shoulder in a way that says ‘sorry man I tried,” and shoots him a sympathetic look (It’s taken awhile but Soonyoung has learned not to be offended by Sarangs blatant favoritism by now).

Because the toddler refuses to cooperate without either her dad or Jihoon, he’s the one charged with her care for this special evening; It would be a lie to say he wasn’t a bit that he is on the same level in Sarang’s head.  Seungcheol has won some awards,  _ Best Rap Song  _ and  _ Best Rap Collaboration, _ for one of his songs he produced and rapped in so the whole gang has to attend this fancy ceremony. Jihoon is wary about going, but he figures it should be okay as long as he is with his new family. So he allows himself to be stuffed into a suit tailored for cat hybrids and tries his best to come off as a proud friend. Which he is, proud that is, how could he not be? His human’s hard work has finally paid off, all the long hours in the studio, not eating or sleeping properly, have actually amounted to something. It’s just that Jihoon is more than a little bitter about it and doesn’t want to dwell on it.

“Jihoon?” Jisoo waves a hand in front of him to grab his attention. When they meet eyes he continues. “Do you want to drive with me or Wonwoo?”  
“Whoever is fine,” he replies, still thinking about everything and nothing. He scans the small crowd absentmindedly. 

He ends up riding with the giants since they are the only ones who thought to bring a car seat for Sarang. They chatter in the whole time but mostly with Chan, who was dragged along with them. Sarangs tries to join the conversation occasionally and when she does, the men in the car jump at the chance to include her. 

“Where Daddy go?” Sarang asks Wonwoo for the third time. 

“He’s getting ready,” he explains patiently once more, “because he won a big award. But we can see him soon, don't worry.”

“Okay!” she chirps. As they pass some eateries, she flings her arm out and hollers, “It’s Mcdonald's!”

It’s cute, but Jihoon is still on edge. He can’t keep his leg from bouncing, even after Wonwoo noticed at the stop light and asked why the car was shaking, and his fingers won't stop spinning his ring around his finger. Chan keeps sneaking looks at him, so he forces himself to at least try to join the conversation.

Luckily, they arrive quickly. Parking is a mess, but Jisoo’s car manages to find a spot relatively close to them. After the all pile out of their cars, they take a moment to readjust their suits, and Sarang’s dress, before they head in to find their seats. 

Inside is way too fancy for Jihoon’s liking. A glass chandelier hangs in the center of the lobby and the furnishings are all dark wood encrusted with gold. Clusters of people are scattered around the room, gabbing with champagne flutes in hand. All the ladies are dressed to the nines, most with long ball gowns that kiss the floor behind them. Lace, satin, chiffon, sequin, full skirts, and sleeveless, he sees them all. The younger the woman, the more revealing the cut of the dress he notices. 

A hand full on ladies have pets accompanying them. Leopards, panthers, and white tigers liter the area. Each one is dressed just as extravagant as their owners. The only difference being that the hybrids main focal point is the luxurious collars constricting their necks. 

Jihoon notices the hybrids glares following him and his friends as they across the room. He feels impossibly small and inadequate under the weight of their stare. He recognizes the snow white Peacock hybrid. Lola, lounging in the corner. Before Jihoon accidently meets her eyes, he ducks his head and focuses on keeping Sarang by his side. He doesn’t know what he would do if she got away from him and started cooing over all the hybrids like she did to him when they first met. 

Finally they make it to the nosebleed section and manage to find their seats without any incidents, other than Sarang attempting to  escape so she can play with the hybrids.   

They all file into the aisle with relative ease, each couple happily snuggled up. Jihoon sits at the end, with Sarang in between him and Jisoo.     

“You'd think with how swanky the place is, they'd have better seats.” Hansol says as they get situated.

“Cheap ass rich people,” Seungkwan agrees with his boyfriend as he rubs his butt around the cushion, trying to find a comfortable spot.

 The ceremony itself is boring. Jihoon has sat through too many of these things for there to be an awe or novelty left. So he mostly doses off for the first half, knowing Seungcheol won't be awarded until later in the evening. Just in case, he asks Jisoo the wake him up so he doesn't miss it by accident. 

As he's in the verge of falling asleep, drifting in a sea of bliss, the air conditioning kicks on and stirs up the stagnant air. His body freezes, the hair on his arms standing up as his ears and tail does. Nose flaring and eyes shooting open, jihoon rocks forward in his chair to search the area below their seats. He's halfway over the balcony when he spots the source of the stench. 

Even in the dark room, his eyes latch onto where Seungcheol is seated next to  _ him  _ first, shocked at his never-ending shitty luck. His  (loving, caring, wonderful)  human is chatting it up with Jongil. Jihoon stares, brain barely registering what he’s witnessing. Seungcheol laughs, at a joke probably, which is weird to think since jihoon is convinced Jongil is the son of Satan, teeth on full display as he smiles and claps Jongil on the shoulder in a show of camaraderie. For some reason this shakes Jihoon to his core. His eyes fill and he quickly squeezes them shut and attempts to calm his breathing. 

_ Seungcheol doesn't know, _ jihoon thinks. He tries to be rational and keep calm, not wanting to ruin everyone’s night. 

Jihoon jumps when a hand is placed between his shoulder blades. 

“Are you okay?” Jisoo asks, voice pitched low so as to not alert the others who are diligently watching the awards being passes out. “Did something happen?” 

“Ah, no, it's all just overwhelming.” He lies, flicking his wrist around the room in explanation. 

“It is, isn't it?” Jisoo smiles back. 

Jihoon says awake after that, sensing someone's eyes pinned to him.

At some point Sarang climbs in his lap and proceeds to fall asleep. Her presence is more than welcome; the weight of her on his legs servers as an anchor that keeps him from floating too far. Instead of pinpointing who is watching him, he studies his little human and rocks her in his arms so she isn't woken up by the loud cheers or music.  

Jihoon watches Seungcheol rise from his seat when he is called up to to stage. Before he makes the journey up the aisles and stairs though, he pauses, stooping low to speak to Jongil, who flicks his gaze up to meet Jihoon’s. 

It's only a split second before Jihoon ducks his head, but it's long enough for him to see the dark smirk split Jongil’s face. 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck.  _

Jihoon wipes the palms of his hands on the side of his chair, the burn rough material soaking up the sweat collecting on his hands twice, then four times, then six, then ten, until he loses count. A satisfying burn licks at his palms. 

His friends cheer, too occupied by Seungcheol being awarded to notice Jihoon's freak out and Jihoon is relieved. Sarang gets up and peers over the balcony railing to watch her father bounce across the stage. Seungcheol’s voice booms over the speaker, words of thanks and love warning the hearts of those in attendance. All the while Jihoon stares into space, chafing his hands against his seat and occasionally wincing at the noise levels. 

_ You're fine. You're gonna go home with Seungcheol and Sarang and your friends and never seen him again. Just get through the rest of the ceremony. You are fine, Jihoon _ repeats over and over again, willing his mantra his to be true. 

The crowd quiets down as Seungcheol makes the trek back to his table and the announcers move on to the next category. Sarang losses interest and stands before him, watching his hands go back and forth. She frowns, grabs his wrist, therefore bringing them to a stop, and climbs back onto his lap rather than her own chair. Her knobby knees press uncomfortably into his sides. 

“It's okay, kitty. Sarang fix it.” She bring his hand up to her lips and places delicate butterfly kisses on both palms, left then right. “See? All better! No more owie.”  

Jihoon cracks a smile for her sake and folds his arms around her, tugging at the bottom of her dress incase it rode up. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

She beams up at him in reply, eyes disappearing, and gets resituated so she can see the stage. 

His heart still beats like a drum against his ribcage, but with his tiny human snuggling against his chest it's easier to breathe. Maybe it’s the wafting of her shampoo, or the way she bounces her right leg and plays with his fingers. He calms a little more each minute she is sitting with him. 

Eventually after another half hour of thank you speeches and flashy introductions, Sarang leans up and asks to go to  the bathroom so he inturn leans over to Jisoo and let him know where they are going before raising from his chair and leading Sarang out of the nosy auditorium.  

Stepping into the hallways is nothing short of a relief for his poor ears. They ring in the sudden quiet. Feet shuffling over the carpet, Sarang swings their hands back and forth as Jihoon guides them to the nearest restroom. She chatters on happily about something silly Soonyoung did the last time he watched her. Jihoon only half listens. Typically he would be enthusiastic about any story she shared but tonight, his mind is fried. 

There's been too many close encounters with his past for him to he entirely  _ there.  _ Even so he should have known better than to be up wandering around the venue. 

Jihoon takes her into the men’s room and guards the stall while she she does her business. Then he hoists her up so she can reach the sink properly.  He has to stop before they leave the room to fix her dress so it's not tucked into her tights in the back. The bashful look on her face when he finishes makes him let out a hushed laugh. Instead of continuing to be embarrassed she giggled up at him. He ends up leaving the bathroom in a better mood then when he entered. 

It’s short lived. 

All the blood drains from his face the second he sees Jongil standing across the hall waiting for him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. He looks the same as he did the last time Jihoon saw him. Clean cut, stylishly dressed, handsome. 

He really should have known better. 

“Ah, there he is.” Jongil says warmly, like he’s just been reunited with a long time friend, pushing off the wall and strides up to where Jihoon is frozen in place.  He stoops down to Sarang’s level. “And with a friend.”

Jihoon jerks her away from him instantly, and pushes her behind him. She gasps at the sudden movement and clutches at his pants. 

“That wasn’t very nice, Woozi.” Jongil stands and scrutinizes him. When he speaks next, all pleasant pretenses have hardened into contempt. “Seems like you’ve lost your manners during your time with Seungcheol.” 

His tone makes Jihoon breath hitch in fear. Sarang notices and tugs on his pant legs. “Kitty?”

Jihoon forces his gaze from Jongil to where she is peeking around his leg. Her eyes are wide and the corners of her mouth are turned down in confusion or worry. He hates it. His tiny human should not be affected by Jongil. 

_ What if he hurts her too? _

No. He won’t let that happen. Jihoon attempts a smile and takes her hands off him. “Sweety, I need you to go back into the bathroom, okay?”

She shakes her head vehemently, frowning. “Wanna stay.”

“How cute.” Jongil says.

Jihoon flicks his eyes to the man nervously. “You can’t. You’ll be a big girl for me, and listen to kitty, right?”

She doesn’t answer, eyes focused on her pink shoes. 

Gently, he nudges the door behind them open. She steps inside but turns immediately to watch him as it closes.

“What do you want with me?” he braves. 

Jongil glares, eyebrows lowered, and takes another step forward. “I didn’t give you permission to speak, did I?” 

Jihoon holds his tongue, hands curling to fists.

The human waits a moment, smiling tight-lipped, testing whether Jihoon will disobey again before speaking. “Good. Not all your manners are gone. Now, what I want is my pet back. We are going to leave together tonight and you don’t have a choice.”

“No.” he chokes out. He can’t leave Sarang here waiting for him. He can't ruin Seungcheol’s night. His friends are waiting for him.   

“Excuse me?” Jongil narrows his eyes. The temperature in the hall lowers ten degrees as Jongil steps closer, too close. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I said no.” It’s faint, but he doesn’t waver. He swallows the lump in his throat. “I won’t leave with you.”

Jongil huffs out a laugh, then sneers. “You’ve gotten to be quite mouthy. Have you forgotten who you are talking to? I’m not Seungcheol. I don’t care about what you have to say, so I suggest you keep that mouth shut.” 

He doesn’t raise his voice, but that's what scares Jihoon. The human is eerily calm, chin lifted high. Jihoon can’t predict when Jongil will strike, if he will at all.

Jihoon takes a step back reflexively and bumps into the door.  His eyes are starting to fill, but he refuses to let any tears drop. He can feel himself shaking.  

“Sarang will forget you easily. You’re just another toy to her. Once you’re gone she’ll move on to something else, something better, and we both know Seungcheol doesn’t love you anyway.” he says hoving over Jihoon like a bad storm. 

“You’re wrong.” He thinks of all the times Sarang has shown him affection, all the times Seungcheol has taken care of him. The times Seungcheol called him ‘baby’. Jongil has to be wrong.

“Am I? It’s not like you’re something special. Probably not even a decent lay, being the virgin you were when you left me. He definitely could do better.”   

“We don’t do that stuff.” He hunches his shoulders up as if to protect himself from Jongil’s words. It doesn't work.

“Oh, how silly of me.” Jongil lays a hand on his chest, deviltry gleaming in his eyes. “ _ Of course _ you haven’t.”

Jihoon flinches. He knows Seungcheol doesn’t desire him, but it's one thing to know it and another to have someone else exploit it. 

“Why would he see his  _ pet _ that way? I sure knew how unsatisfying you would be. That’s why I always locked you away. It was disgusting to watch you so desperate.”

“Stop.” His voice cracks. Jihoon hugs his arms around himself. 

“You’re better off with me. At least I gave you a reason to live.”  Jongil creeps into Jihoon’s personal space to whisper in his ear. “What are you going to do when she gets tired of you? When Seungcheol doesn't want to put up with you anymore? Are you going to go back to a shelter to rot? You know what happens to repeat offenders, the ones who can't get sold, don’t you?”

“Don’t,” he begs, choking on air a little. He can’t hear anymore. Everything Jongil says is seeping in and marring all his memories with his humans. 

“They get killed.” Jongil backs away to see the damage he’s done play out on Jihoon’s face. 

“You're lying,” Jihoon protests weakly. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to hold in the tears, but they slip down his cheeks anyway. He doesn’t sob or wail. No, he just stands there and  _ leaks.  _ His shoulders slump and he lets his arms fall to his side uselessly. 

“There, now you see it. It’s better if you just come with me now. I’ll save you from being slaughtered down the road.”

“Jihoon!” 

His head snaps up to see Jisoo and Mingyu rushing over. 

So does Jongil. Before he backs away he says lowly, too quiet for the others to hear, “You know where you belong.” 

“What’s going on here?” Mingyu demands stepping in between Jongil and Jihoon. Mingyu towers over Jongil, shoulders set intimidatingly.  

Jisoo pulls Jihoon into a hug Jihoon doesn’t return. The other pulls back and searches his face. “Where is Sarang, Jihoon?”

“In the bathroom.” Jihoon wipes his eyes before pushing open the door to the men's room. She rockets out as soon as she can and barrels into Jihoon. He doesn’t hesitate to lift her up and follow Jisoo back to their seats. 

The walk back is a blur. Maybe Jisoo tried to talk to him.  He only remembers how tight Sarang’s arms were around his neck. It isn’t until they are seated again and Jisoo has reassured the others they were all right that Mingyu came back. 

The show goes on as if Jihoon’s whole world was crumbling. Everything Jongil said keeps replaying in his head. He zones out mostly. Did Sarang sit with him? He just stares ahead until Jongil gets called up. 

“I just want to say how honored I am. Thank you. This all couldn't be possible if it weren’t for the support of my family and friends. I also want to thank Lee Jihoon,” Jongil points to the section Jihoon is seated in. “for being the reason for ‘ _ Still Lonely’.” _

 

* * *

 

Someone else tucks Sarang into bed when they get to Seungcheol’s place. Jihoon barely notices. He goes straight to his room and peels off his stiff suit and chucks it somewhere in the direction of his laundry basket. He forgoes pajamas and crawls under his bed in just his boxers. The cold seeps into his bones but he doesn’t mind.  

He doesn't know how long he stays there until he hears the front door slam. 

“Where’s Jihoon?” Seungcheol asks immediately.

Oh no, he ruined Seungcheol’s big day. He didn’t mean to. He wanted Seungcheol to have such a good time tonight even though he know it would be hell for him.  

“He’s in his room.” Jeonghan explains. “Sarang’s in bed but we didn’t want to leave when he is such a mess.” 

Was he a mess? He tries to remember the last few hours but comes up empty other than vague flashes of things. Yeah, he probably is a mess.

Footstep sound down the hallway and stop in front of his room. Seungcheol knocks. “Jihoon?” 

_ I should get up and open the door. I should congratulate him,  _ Jihoon thinks, but he can't make his body move, can't even open his mouth let alone the door. 

“Baby? I’m coming in.”

Jihoon tracks Seungcheol’s feet as he searches the room for him. The human checks the closet first, then stands in the middle of the room for a moment just breathing heavy. Then he comes to the bed and lays on the floor so he can look at Jihoon. 

Silence.

“You don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to.” Seungcheol stretches out a hand towards Jihoon. “But I know you are upset and I want to help you. Will you let me?” 

Jihoon doesn’t understand why but he starts crying in earnest when he hears his human ask for permission to comfort him and suddenly he just really need to be held. This time when he tries to move it works; he slides over and out from under the bed and lets Seungcheol put him on the bed before crawling in with him. Seungcheol wraps his cold body in the comforter and places him in his lap, rocking back and forth.

“I-i'm sorry f-for ruining y-your day,” he manages to get out through his shaky breaths.  

“Oh no, baby, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Seungcheol tightens his arms around him. 

“I-it was s-so so s-scary!” he hiccups, face red and vision bleary. “H-he wanted t-to take m-me back but I s-said no.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t go Jihoon.” Seungcheol gasps, stopping his rocking movement.. “You did so well baby, i’m proud of you. So proud.” 

“R-really?” Jihoon looks up at Seungcheol through the tears in his eyes. 

“Yes! You were so strong today.” he says vehemently. “I know it was hard for you to see him again but you still stood up to him and protected Sarang.” 

Jihoon smiles a bit and relaxes against his human. Exhausted from all the emotionally draining event of the day, he lets his eyes slip shut and decides right then a there that even if it’s only temporary, he’d rather be right where he is. Right as he’s drifting off to sleep, he feels Seungcheol kiss his forehead before laying him down properly and shutting off the lights.   

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to scream @ me in the comments :))))


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys, it's been forever hasnt it? sorry abt that. this chapter is abt 2k shorter than normal because ive had horrible writters block for like three weeks, but im gonna post it anyway for you. I hope you like it!  
> (i think you will :-))  
> P.S. its unedited as hell (you're all shocked, i know)  
> P.P.S   
> happy late halloween!

“I’m going to kill that man.” Seungcheol says dropping onto the couch next to Junhui. It’s a tight squeeze, their elbow and knees knocking together, but he knew it would befor he plopped down; his couch is only so big after all. He points to Jisoo, face stern. “And there’s nothing you can say or do to stop me.”

The sharp heartbreak Seungcheol felt like a bullet when he got the text that Jihoon had had a horrible encounter with his ex owner still smarted,  even now that Jihoon was with him, safely tucked away. 

Jihoon finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep a few minutes ago. Seungcheol took care to tuck him in, snug as a bug in a rug, before walking into a full living room even though it was well past midnight. How small his apartment is smacks him in the face once he sees all his friends piled onto his two couches. From where he is squished in between Junhui and a pouty Minghao, he regrets not getting the bigger flat but at the time it seemed wasteful; it was only him and Sarang back then.  

“Get in line,” Jeonghan huffs, tying his silky hair in a flawless bun on top of his head, not a single strand out of place. Seungcheol wonders if it’s to keep his hair out of Jihoon’s ex’s blood or if his best friend was just starting to over heat due to the poor circulation in the livingroom. With the look on his face, it's probably the former. “There’s eleven people way ahead of you.”

He nods, a tad irked that he wasn’t automatically placed on top of that list but understanding his friends need for blood. He wasn’t even there, like Mingyu and Jisoo, didn’t walk up on Jihoon cowering against a wall in fear. His blood starts to boil just thinking of the whole situation so he takes a few deep breaths. Shit, it’s probably a good thing he hadn’t been the one to find them; who knows what he would have done to Jihoon’s ex-owner. It certainly wouldn't have been good and Jihoon shouldn’t have to be subjected to that. Poor boy was traumatised enough. 

“I’ve never seen Jihoonie look so small and broken.” Mingyu says, sounding haunted. “Even during the car ride he seemed so out of it.”

There's a solemn pause. 

“If you get thrown in jail, just where do you think Jihoon will end up?” Jisoo asks, looking pointedly, but not unkindly, at Seungcheol from his seat on Jeonghan’s lap, probably having sensed his increasing need for justice.  “Sarang will be placed in Soonyoung or Jeonghan’s care, but hybrids don’t get godparents. They’re transferred to the government as property and get put back in a random shelter.”

The room falls silent, each boy thinking of the consequences. Honestly, that’s his worst fear; Jihoon would be left all alone and unprotected. Sarang has godparents incase something were to happen to him. He knows she will be loved and cherished. But Jihoon wouldn’t get to stay with her. Surely Jeonghan or Mingyu would do their best to help Jihoon, maybe adopt him themselves, but that's only if they were able to find him in time. Hybrids have been known to disappear into thin air once their owners suddenly passes away.    

“Fine,” Seungcheol grunts. The thought of that happening to Jihoon sends shivers down his spine. “I’ll just focus on helping Jihoon.”

“If you really want me too, I can make him disappear.” Jun says, completely sincere. 

Seungcheol turns to look at him fully, not shocked by his offer but exasperated. He shakes his head, “Just what do you do for a living?”

His friend smirks, shrugging.

“My bets on stripper.” Hansol says from next to Minghao. “Have you seen the way he dances?” 

The room erupts into laughter, the rest of the boys, aside from a certain smiling fox, offering their own personal theory on what Junhui does for a living - a hitman, a gangster, a gas station attendant - and the somber mood lightens at their antics. 

Seungcheol tries to join in with them but the image of Jihoon curled in on himself under his bed is burned into his eyelids. He can’t stop hearing Jihoon’s cracked cries from earlier.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning Jihoon wakes up with swollen eyes and a heavy heart. He lays in bed for an hour after waking up, just staring at the wall. Eventually he gets up and takes a slow shower and dresses up in his usual outfit of a hoodie and a pair of jeans. He leaves the suit on the floor where he threw it last night. As he turns to leave his room he notices the clock on his bedside table. It reads in angry red numbers: 5:56. 

The thought of laying back down alone is unbearable so quietly he sneaks out of his room and creeps down past the other’s bedrooms towards the kitchen. Maybe tea will help. 

He doesn’t expect the livingroom to be packed full of all his friends. A smile tugs at his lips as he notices how Wonwoo is laying on top of Mingyu, who takes up more than the whole couch. Both of the giants have various limbs dangling off the sides of their impromptu mattress. One of Wonwoo’s hands is hanging dangerously close to Seungcheol’s face, just a hair's breadth away from his nose. Jeonghan and Jisoo are spooning on the other smaller couch. Junhui and Minghao are so knotted together, next to Seungcheol on the floor, Jihoon can barely tell where human and hybrid end. Next Hansol and Seungkwan lay snuggled together, human wrapped around the cat hybrids back, with Chan latched onto the other side of Hansol. Last but not least, Soonyoung and Seokmin take up the most space, limbs askew, only touching where their ankles are crossed. It’s hilarious to see; each of his friend coupling up and curling up intimately, save for Soonyoung and Seokmin who are barely touching at all. Even Chan joined in for some spooning.  

Shaking his head, Jihoon walks back to the hall closet, where extra blankets are stored, he collects as many as his thin arms can carry and trudges back to the living room on wobbly legs. He distributes the blankets and sheets equally, making sure his friends are all swaddled nicely, before he snags his own comforter, aka fluffiest and warmest comforter, from his bed for himself and Seungcheol. Stepping over arms and legs and tails he manages to make it to his human without tripping over someone. 

Jihoon drapes the blanket over Seungcheol first, then tucks Wonwoo’s stray appendage back onto the couch. It's a little chilly at first, when he slides next to his human, so he snuggles up to Seungcheol, who resurfaces briefly to smile drowsily and kiss between his ears before sinking back into sleep. 

Warmth floods him at the feeling of Seungcheol’s lips, and he's glad his human is too sleepy to notice how hot and flushed his face is. Jihoon is even more happy that Seungcheol kissed him, now, when he is able to remember it properly. He can recall how pleased he was that last night's peck on his forehead happened, but not the feeling of it. Sleep had erased all the details he really wanted. 

He must have at some point because the next thing he knows, Sarang is brutally nudging him and Seungcheol awake. Her eyebrows are set severely, her lips stuck out in a pout. 

“Why Sarang never invited to sleepovers?” she demands. Crossing her thin arms over her chest she stomp her left foot down indignantly. Hansol groans, fidgeting in annoyance at the noise.  

Seungcheol huffs out a laugh, still sleepy eyed, looking a tad bit guilty and maybe a slight snippet of embarassment of being caught being like this with Jihoon  a second time. Yawing, he tries to placate his daughter, “Next time, Dad will invite you.”

He disentangles himself from a Jihoon’s embrace easily and scoots over so there’s enough space for her to squeeze in between them. Jihoon ends up rolling over Minghaos tail, trying to make more room so she’s not crushed, causing the fox to his right to yelp and clutch his smarting appendage gingerly.  

At first Sarang doesn’t move, obviously still miffed about the whole thing, but then she relents and steps over Jihoon easily. She lay still for all of five minutes. Jihoon almost falls back asleep in those peaceful minutes, happily snuggled in with his two humans and purring lightly, but then he feels Sarang turn to him and start to rub and tug gently at his ears. He nips playfully at her arms and she giggles. Minghao pops his chin over Jihoon’s shoulder when he hears her laugh and joins in, teasing her with his long, fluffy tail.  

 

* * *

 

“That was  _ the  _ Jongil wasn't, it?” Seungkwan asks, snapping Jihoon back to attention, over a steaming cup of coffee. All the boys were crowded around the small kitchen table, waiting for Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Sarang to return with donuts. The table was already cluttered with cups, so much so that Jihoon wondered how they were going to fit a whole box of donuts too. 

Jihoon glances uncertainly over at Seungcheol. His human must be so confused right now since Jihoon never got around to mentioning his first owner, let alone explaining the details of his past. Not that Jihoon avoided the topic per se, the opportunity just never came up. At least, that's what he tells himself as he studies Seungcheol’s dark expression. 

“Jongil?” his human looks around the table, trying to meet someone's, anyone's, eyes, but all their friends shift their gaze to Jihoon.  “The Jongil that I spent all night talking to? That Jongil? That’s your old owner?”

Jisoo lifts his eyebrows, tilts his head, and flicks his eyes in Seungcheol’s direction. Jihoon interprets it as,  _ start talking. _

“Yeah,” Jihoon nods, hands gripping his own mug of coffee so tight his knuckles turn white. His tail wraps around his waist. The room is silent and Jihoon is scared to see his human's reaction. What if he doesn’t believe him?  

“Oh my god,” Seungcheol breathes out, almost to himself, as realization dawns on his face. “His dedication was to you. I - he - that fucking asshole!”  

“Oh my god!” Chan shouts, “You’re Woozi! Like  _ the Woozi!”  _

Jihoon ducks his head, ears flat and body stiff. He knew this was coming, but he still isn't ready for it.

“Holy shit!” Realization dawns on Hansol's face. He snaps his fingers and points at Jihoon. “You were his producer!”

“You’re a genius.” Minghao gapes at him, admiration evident in his expression. 

Jihoon stares at his shaky fingers. 

“I think its time when should be heading home, you guys.” Jisoo says suddenly. The others shrink back in their seats and mumble agreements. 

“What about the donuts, though?” Mingyu whines. 

“Don’t worry, everyone can come to our place for breakfast. I’ll just text Soonyoung to go there instead. Sound good?” Jeonghan offers. Everyone clears out pretty quickly after that. 

Jihoon and Seungcheol marinate in the silence.

“I knew he was an asshole. He changed your name. He neglected you and lashed out over stupid things - don’t deny it, i’ve seen the expression on your face everytime you think you’ve fucked up, you wait to see if i’ll hurt you- I just never thought he would force you to make music and then take all the credit. I didn’t think he could get lower as a person.”     

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” Jihoon rushes out in a breath, ears pasted to his skull. “I just- It never seemed like the right time to bring it up and I really just wanted to forget about it altogether. I thought that chapter of my life was done and closed. I have you and Sarang and friends. But that was stupid of me. I should’ve known better. I was worried that i’d see him there or get recognized by the other pets when you told me you won. I should have told you and I should have just stayed home that night so i wouldn't have ruin everyone's time.” 

“Do not say that.” Seungcheol snaps, eyes like stones. “It is not your fault. You did not ruin anything. Yes, it would have been nice to have a heads up but  _ he came after you _ and as shitty as the whole situation was, I am so incredibly proud of how you handled it.” 

“Really?” Jihoon sniffs, eye suddenly filling. “I did good?”

“Yes, baby.” Seungcheol comes over to kneel in front of Jihoon’s chair, gathering up Jihoon’s smaller hands in his. He leans forward too look up at Jihoon. “You were so strong and brave. Most people would have given up and gone with him, but you stood up for yourself and did what you could to protect our little girl.”

“Our little girl?” Jihoon echos, staring at Seungcheol with wide eyes. Did he hear that wrong? 

“Well, yeah.” Seungcheol looks down at their hands sheepishly. “You play a big part of raising her and are like her second dad. We all know you’re her favorite anyway.” 

Happy tears leak out. Jihoon quickly wipes his cheeks on his shoulders, not wanting to let go of Seungcheol yet. 

“Oh, is that not a good thing?” Seungcheol squeezes Jihoon’s hands and searches his face, worry creasing his brow. 

“No!” Jihoon shakes his head adamantly. “No, I mean, it is. I’m really happy to hear you say it.” 

Seungcheol laughs a little. “That’s a relief, for a sec there I thought I made you feel worse.” 

“Thank you.” Jihoon attempts a smile. It works, for the most part. 

“For what?” His human, convinced that Jihoon is okay since his ears aren’t low anymore, moves to sit in the chair next to him.  

“For everything, but mostly for reassuring me. I needed it. Jongil said a lot of stuff and I can’t help but believe him about some stuff. So thanks for reminding me that Sarang really does care for me - and not just as she would a toy or pet.” 

Seungcheol rolls his tongue around his mouth for a moment, searching for words. “Do you mind telling me what he said? I want to make sure you know he’s wrong.” 

“He said a lot of stuff.” Jihoon chews his bottom lip. “But mostly he talked about you and Sarang. About how she will get tired of me because i'm just like a toy to her. How she’ll forget me soon.”

“And what did he say about me?” Seungcheol asks stonily. His jaw flexes.

“You,” Jihoon stops, taking a shaky breath. He tugs on his tail absentmindedly. “You don’t love me - can't love me because i'm just your pet. You think i'm disgusting and know how  _ unsatisfying _ I would be because i'm a virgin.”  

“Bullshit.” Seungcheol laughs breathlessly and shakes his head vigorously, like the more he denies the less Jihoon will believe it. 

“Huh?” his head jerks up involuntarily. Jihoon doesn't think he heard right. If it was bullshit as Seungcheol said, that would mean that he could have feelings for-. Jihoon cuts himself off. He doesn’t want the false hope.

“That’s a load of bullshit.” Seungcheol catches and holds Jihoon’s gaze. His eye shine with honesty. “I do love you and you are not disgusting.” 

“I know you care for me, Seungcheol.” Jihoon looks down at his hands and nods. He circles his thumb over his knuckles slowly. He scolds himself for over reacting. 

“You don't believe me, do you?” he says. His voice wavers. Jihoon hears the chair scrape against the floor. The human’s jean-clad knees knock against his. “Look at me, please?”

Jihoon bites his cheek as he does. 

“I love you.” Seungcheol’s eyes flicker around Jihoon face, searching for any kind of reaction or understanding. “I love you, but not in the same way I love my friends.” 

“Like you do Sarang? Like family?” Jihoon lip quivers. His vision blurs. He's not ready to hear this. He wants to be blissfully unaware. Jihoon doesn’t think he can handle the truth. “Nevermind. Forget about it, alright?”   

“No.” Seungcheol grabs his shoulders. “Jihoon, I have to say this to you. Please let me?” 

“Okay.” he chokes out. If it’ll make Seungcheol feel better, he can fall apart. He’s used to it, after all, and is an expert in piecing himself back together. Instead of running away he braces himself for the worst by screwing his eyes shut tightly. 

“I don’t love you the way I love our little girl.” 

Jihoon’s heart stops-

“No, Jihoon, I’m  _ in _ love with you.” hands slid from his shoulder to his neck to his cheeks. 

-and starts again. 

Jihoon’s eyes pop open. Time stops. His ears perk up, wringing in the sudden silence.  

Seungcheol looks heartbroken, eyes and nose red, mouth pinched against his bitter feelings. Taking in the silence, he nods, dropping his hands and scooting his chair back to an appropriate distance. “It’s perfectly okay if you don’t return my feelings or if you do and still don't want to pursue them. I want you to know that nothing will change between us unless you want it to. I won’t treat you any different than I have been. I am not Jongil. I respect your opinion and decisions. We can pretend that my confession didn't happen if you prefer. You don’t have to say anything right this moment but know that it’s up to you Jihoon.”

His human makes to stand, to give Jihoon space to think, but his hand flashes out to latch onto Seungcheol’s arm before he gets very far. “Seungcheollie, wait. Let me say something first.”

He rubs his eyes with his forearm before turning to face Jihoon with a forced smile. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“I love you too.” the words rush out; he's scared if he doesn’t say them quick enough Seungcheol will leave or not believe him. Jihoon tugs on his human’s arm with enough force to pull him closer by a few steps. His tail trails up Seungcheol’s leg of it’s own volition. “I’ve been in love with you for months. You can ask Wonwoo and Jisoo, they've known since I first figured it out.”

“Oh, thank god.” Seungcheol deflates, his stiff shoulders melting, his entire expression softening to relief before he covers his face. 

Jihoon stands, a little worried that he hasn’t looked at him yet. He steps close to peer up at Seungcheol and when he still can’t see around his human's hands, he starts peeling his fingers back from his face one by one until he can meet Seungcheol’s eyes. “Are you upset with me?”

“I can’t believe you let me make that whole speech when you felt the same way.” Seungcheol says. His cheeks are tinted pink. 

“Are you embarrassed right now?” Jihoon smothers a smile. He feels light and ticklish because of the butterflies in his tummy. Slyly, he glides his hands up Seungcheol’s sides, fingers picking at each ribs like guitar strings, tail swishing behind him lazily. “Don’t be. I loved your speech. It reminded me how much I love you and why.”    

“How much do you love me?” he squints down at Jihoon with mock skepticism. 

“Hm, this much?” Jihoon places a kiss on the  visible dip in between his neck and collarbone. 

“Only that much?” Seungcheol pouts, chest rising and falling harshly. Hands circle his waist. 

“Or this much?” he raises himself up on his tippy toes and pecks Seungcheol’s cheek.

His human hums in appreciation. 

Jihoon snakes a hand around his neck and pulls him down for a kiss. Their lips rub together when he says, “Maybe this much?” 

Hearing Seungcheol groan at that, Jihoon can't help but think:  _ Jongil can fuck right off.  _

 

* * *

 

  “Okay, Sarang, are you ready to spend the day with your favorite Uncle Soonyoung?” Seungcheol speaks over his shoulder to Sarang in the back seat. He pulls up to a stop at the light and turns to see her.

“Why can’t Sarang go with Dad and Kitty again?” she whines. 

Jihoon twists in the passenger’s seat to see her with her arms crossed and legs swinging furiously. She flicks her brown eyes sharply to Jihoon and back to Seungcheol.

“Because it’s Dad’s day off and he wants to grown up things today and Sarang isn’t old enough to come along yet.” Seungcheol turns back around when Jihoon points to the newly green light before continuing. “Besides, Uncle Soonyoung told me he had a super fun day planned for you guys, don’t you wanna find out what he planned?” 

“No.” she answers bluntly. 

Jihoon snorts at that, quickly schooling his expression back to parental support. He sees Seungcheol crack a smile before doing the same. 

“Sarang,” Seungcheol warns, tone rising slightly. “Don’t be mean.”

“I sorry.” She deflates, shoulder drooping. 

“Maybe the pretty lion will play  jegichagi with you again if you ask nicely.” Jihoon suggests. He watches her chew on her cheek.  

“Sarang didn’t bring the jegi.” she mumbles.

“I’m should Uncle Soonyoung has one you can use, Princess.” Seungcheol jumps in as they pull up to the cafe. Soonyoung is waiting in front with Seokmin but they park anyway. “Alright, we’ll be back after dinner. Have fun!”            

The dog hybrid bounds over, saying hi, and helps Sarang unbuckle and exit the car. Jihoon calls after her, “See you soon!” 

Once Seungcheol sees them all go in, they’re off. Lacing their fingers together, Seungcheol says, “So I’m all yours today. No distractions. No responsibilities. At least until after dinner. Did you have something you really wanted to do?” 

“Hmm,” Jihoon wants to do everything with his human, but he knows they are on a limited time frame. Which is okay. It’s not like today is a one time thing - no, they can have more dates. There are two things Jihoon has been thinking about for a while now and he’s a little reluctant to ask to do them but now’s the time. If he doesn't propose they do it at this moment, he’ll chicken out and regret it later. Regardless he still cringes, ears twitching, when he asks. “Can we go sing karaoke and then to a photo booth?” 

Seungcheol gives his hand a squeeze, then removes it so he can turn using both hands. “Of course we can.”

“That's it? You’re not gonna tease me for wanting to do it?” Apprehensively, Jihoon peeks over at his human. There's a huge smile on his face, but no judgement. 

“Why would I? It’ll be fun. We don’t have any pictures together, so we should go anyway.” Seungcheol looks to him briefly then refocuses on the road.

“I know the photobooths are supposed to be for teen girls, but I’ve seen people in dramas do it and I wanted to try.” Jihoon ducks his head in shame. 

“You really don't have to explain it to me baby.” Seungcheol places his hand high on Jihoon thigh. “I’m glad you asked me to take you.”

Jihoon blushes as his thigh muscles jump at the contact. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya its been too long~  
> Its short again for the same reason as last chapter im awful i know  
> Also sorry in advance

“Good, good morning!” Jihoon and Seungcheol sing together, jiggling their shoulders in a little dance. “Hope you have a good, good morning!” 

Sarang giggles uncontrollably, teetering in her seat at the kitchen table. The spoonful of porridge in her grasp shakes dangerously. Jihoon just  _ knows _ he’ll have to do major clean up after Seungcheol takes her to preschool, but the nose scrunching joy on her face is worth it he decides. They continue the rest of the song, singing is cutely and frolicking around the kitchen in a silly dance until Sarang’s awful mood has evaporated with the the chilly morning air. 

“Okay!” Seungcheol says, clapping his hands together to get their attention. “We’ve got fifteen minutes before we leave. Sarang, I need you to brush your teeth and make sure you put your homework into your backpack. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Sir!” she chirps and hops off towards the bathroom.

“Jihoon, I need to make her lunch real quick so can you supervise her for me?”  

“Yes, Sir!” he mimicks Sarang. He takes maybe two steps before Seungcheol calls after him. 

“Wait!” Seungcheol looks sheepish when Jihoon turns back to him, eyes hanging low. His human takes a giant step to him and pecks him on the lips once, then twice. “Thank you,” 

Jihoon suppresses a smile, hand tracing his lips as he heads over to Sarang.

* * *

 

Static buzzing fills the air, making his ears flick, along with the stench of fresh blood. Jihoon opens his eyes to nothing but blurry objects. He blinks a few times, trying to clear his vision; when it does not clear immediately he panics,  _ I’m blind, i'm blind i'm blind,  _ on repeat like a broken record in his head. 

Once his vision refocuses, he wishes it hadn't.

It’s dark, but the headlights of both cars still shine bright enough for him to see easily. A few feet away a car lays on its side, smoke coiling around the crumpled front end. A dark liquid forms a small lake surrounding the car and it appears to be spreading toward them. 

His first thought is that its blood; his second is that its gas. A few sniffs confirms it.  

He looks down at himself to see a large shard from their windshield, he thinks, lodged in his side. He tries moving but the glass has him pinned to his seat. 

And that’s when the pain hits him. 

Fire licks it’s way around his torso, the intensity choking him. Jihoon’s hands scramble to the glass and tug desperately, frantically, until he’s pulled it out all the way. For a moment, the pain worsens and he can’t help the scream that tears its way out of his throat. His chest heaves up and down wildly, ears pasted to his skull. Blood rolls down past his smeared handprints on the glass and drips onto his pants. He watches it pool on his thigh before releasing the piece to the floor so it tumbles onto where the smaller chunks have settled. 

Confused how he ended up here, he retraces his steps. This morning they sang to Sarang because she was grumpy, drove her to school on time for once, and then he and his human spent the day together. Seungcheol and he watched a movie with Jeonghan and Jisoo. He can’t recall what movie, just that he sat snug in his human's lap and received lots of neck kisses and loving whispers while their friends poked fun their lovey-dovey antics. The feeling of love he got when Seungcheol fell asleep in his shoulder. Around four they picked up Sarang and ate out at the Cafe. Soonyoung danced around Sarang teasingly, making her squeal happily. He can remember helping Sarang buckle her seatbelt before sitting up front with Seungcheol, chatting with his human when they stopped at the red light, then fear. From where he was sitting, turned to watch Seungcheol as he spoke, he could see the car coming. Headlights lit up a halo around Seungcheol before crashing into them. Jihoon’s stomach dropped as he’s thrown in the air, then nothing.     

“D-dad,” Sarang wails from behind him. 

Jihoon snaps his head to the drives side to see Seungcheol slouched over the wheel, blood everywhere. Terror grips him. He can’t lose him. He can’t lose him - Jihoon forces himself to stay calm and collected. He has to take care of their little girl first. 

“Don’t look!” he shouts, scrambling to get his seatbelt unbuckled. He hisses, the movement reigniting the pain in his side. “Sarang, baby, close your eyes.”  

Sniffles answer him. 

Jihoon pulls out his phone and attempts to dial 119 with one hand. He fumbles with it since the blood on his hand leaves smudges on the touch screen. After rubbing the screen as clean as possible with a clean patch of his shirt, Jihoon get the call to go through.  

“ _ 119, what’s your emergency? _ ” a female operator answers.

“There’s been a crash with at least three injured.” Jihoon spots the nearest street sign and relayed their location to the lady.

“Ambulances are on the way, sir. Can you tell me-” 

Jihoon hangs up and dials Jeonghan. He waits for five rings and then calls Jisoo, who answers on the second. 

“Jisoo,” His voice cracks as he speaks.

“ _ Jihoon? What’s wrong? _ ” Alarm carries through the phone.

“I-There was an accident,” he takes a deep breath, trying to process everything himself. “On the way home. We’re about fifteen minutes away from the cafe. Please come help.”

“ _ Where are you? Have you called 119 yet?”  _ Jisoo demands, words sharpened by worry. _ “Jeonghan and I are almost to the car.”  _

“Yeah, they are sending ambulances, please hurry.” 

“ _ On our way. _ ” Jisoo says. “ _ Are you injured? _ ”

He hesitates, peeling his hand away to assess his laceration, blood flowing at the lack of pressure, then decides not to answer. “There’s gas everywhere I have to get Sarang and Seungcheol out first.” 

“ _ Jihoon!”  _ Panic rings clear in Jisoo’s voice.  _ “How badly are you hurt?” _

Jihoon hangs up on him, too.   

He manages to get the door open with minimal issues but when he steps out, his legs buckle and he has to clamp onto the door. His head spins and for a second he thinks he's falling but then he feels the cold metal holding him up pressed against him. Steeling himself, he forces himself to walk to the back door. “Keep your eyes closed, okay? I’m gonna get you out.” 

Grunting, he manages to yank the door open. More blood spills from his side but he holds in the agony so Sarang isn't more distressed than she already is. Thankfully, her eyes are squeezed shut tightly and looks relatively unharmed. 

Jihoon sighs out in relief, slumping against the door frame, one hand pressed against his still weeping wound. He doesn't think he’ll be able to reach across her - not with the condition his side is in. “Okay, can you undo your seatbelt for me?”

Silently, save for a sniffle here and there, she does so after a few tries. Scratches and bruises mar her face and arms but there’s minimal blood. None of her limbs seem broken. She’s breathing hard but Jihoon isn’t sure if it’s because she’s scared or something more lethal. 

“You’re doing great, just come to me, okay?” Jihoon opens his arms for her. She sways on her feet on the way over, but her grip on his neck when she throws her tiny arms around him is strong. He endures the flames permeating across his torso as he hefts her up and carries her a safe distance from the crash. He places her on her feet. “Stay right here. I’m going to help Dad, but i’ll be back.”

A hand on his bloodied shirt stops him from retreating. Jihoon turns to her once more, gentle expression on his face. “I’m just going to help your dad out of the car. I need you to be a big girl for me and wait here, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

Eyes still closed, she nods once and lets her hand drop. 

He stumbles his way over to the driver's side of their car. Luckily the door has been blown wide open from the impact of the other car so Jihoon doesn’t have to worry about tearing his side more.  

Jihoon sucks in a sharp breath.

Slumped over the wheel, Seungcheol looks dead. There’s blood covering the side of his face that Jihoon can see and his arm hangs awkwardly from his shoulder. What shocks Jihoon the most is Seungcheol’s knee. It’s swollen, deformed, with a patchwork of discolored skin. Suddenly, Jihoon is relieved his human is unconscious - he knows the moment he comes to, Seungcheol will be in a world of pain.  

Pulling himself together, Jihoon tenderly brings his human back to sitting up right so he can reach across to unbuckle him and checks for a pulse even though he can see his chest moving. The action rips his side more, blood gushing out at an alarming speed. His vision blurs again, but determination settles in his bones as he slips his arms under Seungcheol and rearranges him so he can carry him on his back. His human’s dead weight on his back makes him stumble, knees buckling up the strain,  more than once and he has to stop and catch his breath.

Eventually he makes it back to Sarang, who is still standing still with her eyes scrunched together. Pride warms his chest. “Okay, I’m back, but I don’t want you to look yet. Everything is fine, Dad is doing fine, but it looks a bit scary.”

“Otay,” she sniffles. 

With as little jostling as possible, Jihoon get Seungcheol laid out with his head in Jihoon’s lap. Then he has Sarang sit beside him; she latches onto his arm and buries her face into his shoulder, one hand wrapped around his. Jihoon breathes a sigh of relief knowing he got his family as far away from danger that he could.         

It’s dead silent around them, eerily so. No traffic noise since it's late on a weekday and everyone is probably tucked into bed like they should be. Tears roll down Sarang’s cheeks, staining his shirt, but she makes no sound. 

He starts to feel light, like a balloon floating up to the starry sky - untethered. Sweat rolls down his back. He can feel how cold and clammy his hand is in comparison to Sarangs. It frightens him. Something isn’t right, something-

The car that crashed into them catches fire in an instant, illuminating the street. Heat waves roll over to Jihoon and suddenly it’s like he’s being smothered with warmth. Sarang jumps and clings tighter to him. 

Sirens sound off in the distance and he knows it’s almost time for him to disappear. 

Jihoon ignores the raging fire, ignores the agony in his abdomen, ignores the wailing of the ambulances and leans over Seungcheol. His free hand runs through his black locks, pushing back his bangs. “Seungcheollie, my love, please, please, please, be strong. You can make it through this. Don’t worry about me when you notice i’m gone, okay? Focus on getting better.” Teardrops fall onto his human’s face. “This time I’m going to find my way back to you and Sarang. I love you.” 

Gingerly, Jihoon slides out from under Seungcheol and places his head in Sarang’s lap instead. Clutching his wound, Jihoon kneels in front of Sarang.  He lifts her head and cradles her face in his hands. “Look at me, baby.”

She cracks one eye open hesitantly. 

“Kitty has to go hide now, okay? Uncle Jeonghan and uncle Jisoo are almost here with some nice friends who are going to help you and Dad.”

“What about Kitty?” she questions, both eyes trained on his. Tiny hands grab at his forearms. “Why they not help my kitty?”

Fresh tears build up in his eyes as he tries to put on a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’m going to get help from someone else.”

“Oh. Otay.” she frowns. 

“I need you to play pretend, Sarang. Pretend I wasn’t with you. Can you do that for me?” 

She nods hesitantly. 

“If they ask you about me, tell them you don’t know.” he says. A wave of dizziness washes over him, black spots dancing in his vision. 

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. 

“Yes, like that.” Jihoon sees the ambulances turn onto their street. His time is up. Sorrow stabs him in the chest, making his breath hitch. “Sarang, I have to go now. I love you and I will be back really soon.”   

“I love you,” she mumbles, letting her hands fall to her sides. 

Jihoon groans as he stands. He sways on his feet, but he still bends down to kiss Sarang on the forehead. 

“Sarang? Jihoonie?” Seungcheol calls, unfocused gaze landing on him, before his eyes fall closed once again. 

Swallowing hard, Jihoon turns and walks as fast as he can to the closest alleyway. He barely makes it around the corner when he hears tires screech to a halt a few feet back and medics shouting. Safe, all the energy saps out of his body, his bones like noodles, he slumps against the brick building to his left. Afraid he left a bloody trail, Jihoon forces himself to crawl behind the nearby dumpster. 

There, laying on his back, trying to keep his life from slipping through his fingers like water and searching the stars for assistance, he allows himself to let go. The black tinging his vision closes in. His breathing becomes rapid and his hands drop to the slick concrete under him. He gags, copper tasting fluid spilling from his mouth.  

“Lee Jihoon!” someone calls desperately. “Where are you?”  

He opens his mouth to call back, to shout that he’s here and he’s dying but sanguine fluid chokes him. 

The last thing he sees is Jisoo over him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Myself Yikes  
> feel free to yell at me in the comments or on tumblr


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS & HAPPY NEW YEAR

The first thing Jihoon does upon waking up is panic. Unfamiliar with his surrounding, he flicks his eyes around the room. He’s laid out on a hospital bed with an IV drip in his arm and a heart monitor on his finger.  White walls surround him; there is one window, however no sunlight shines through the blinds. A T.V hangs on the wall across from him, a cheesy drama playing with the volume muted. Jisoo is curled up in a chair next to his bed to his right. 

At the sight of him, he relaxes, the anvil on his chest evaporating. He’s safe. Jisoo and Jeonghan got to him first; they won’t let anyone take him away. They’ll help him get back to his humans, he’s absolutely certain. 

Jisoo looks terrible. His eyes are swollen with dark circles prominent on his otherwise pale complexion. He look thin and fragile - like he’ll blow away with the slightest ghost of a breath. His normally perfectly parted hair is in disarray, as if he had run his fingers through it and maybe even tugged it in frustration, little tufts of brown sticking up in every which way around his ears and his bangs pressed flat to his forehead. He’s still in his outfit from their dinner at the cafe: ripped blue jeans and red flannel. Even that is wrinkled.   

And suddenly, looking at his best friend, Jihoon just really needs comfort. He’s not sure if he needs to give or receive it, probably the receive it all things considered, just that he needs Jisoo to not be sleeping in that chair. 

“Ji-jisoo,” his voice cracks as he carefully uses his arms to jack himself up higher on the bed slowly with great care not to move is abdominal muscles. His arms burn with the strain.

The other hybrid stirs, ears flicking at the rustling of Jihoon’s blankets.

“Jisoo!” Jihoon tries again, once he’s settled again, louder this time. 

“Jihoon?” Jisoo licks his lips and blinks. Snapping his eyes open, he shoots up from his sitting position and rushes over to his side. “Oh my god, Jihoon!” 

Scooting over, and suppressing a groan at the movement, he pulls back the itchy blanket and pats the mattress with a small, shy smile and shaky hands. “Can you lay with me?”  

“Of course,” Jisoo said quietly. Gingerly, he crawls in next to Jihoon and snuggles in when Jihoon lays back on his arm and resituates the blanket so both of them are covered fully.  

“Please tell me he’s alive,” Jihoon whispers, eyes shut. He feels like crying, but tears won't come. “Even if it’s a lie.”

“Seungcheol is okay, Jihoon. He’s got a lot of work ahead of him, but he’ll make it.” Jisoo assures him with a slight squeeze to his hand. 

“Oh, thank god.” Relief washes over him like a tidal wave. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, shoulders dropping their tension. “What do you mean he ‘has a lot of work’ ahead?” 

“Well, his kneecap was shattered when the car hit. He had surgery on his leg when he got to the hospital and they said he’s looking at about six to eight weeks in a cast before he can even put weight on his leg and then he’ll have to go to physical therapy. Other than that, his injuries were relatively minor: just a dislocated shoulder, concussion and cuts and bruises.” Jisoo finishes with a sigh. “Aren’t you going to ask about yourself?”

“I was getting there, but I want to know about what happened with Sarang first. How is she doing?” Jihoon replies, his tail wrapping itself around Jisoo’s. Guilt turns in his belly harshly when he recalls how he left her: crying and alone with an injured father. He vows to make do whatever it takes to make it up to her, if she will let him.   

“I heard she was inconsolable at the hospital at first because she had to sit alone, well with a stranger, for a while until Soonyoung got there, since Jeonghan and i needed to stay behind with you. Luckily a nurse was kind enough to wait with her so she wouldn’t be completely alone.” Noticing Jihoon’s discomfort, Jisoo rub circles on his shoulder as he continues. “But she’s doing better know. Her godparents decided she’d be better off with Jun and Minghao since they’ve got a huge house with lots of distractions. Besides, both Jeonghan and Soonyoung have to work a lot so Jun would end up with her all the time anyway.”

Jihoon nods his understanding, ears flicking against Jisoo’s chin. “She’ll have fun with him.” 

“You can stay with them too, if you don’t want to go back to Seungcheol’s place without him, you know.” A pause, then softer he says, “Minghao wanted me to tell you that.”     

“I think i’d really like that.” Jihoon hums, watching the T.V. idly. He isn’t particularly worried about himself, considering the fact that he’s awake and talking without any problems. He’s feeling pretty good now that he knows his humans are in good care and that his friends are comforting them in his stead - then again his relaxed mood could be due to the pain meds them must have him on. Regardless, he is a little bit curious how he made it out okay. “I take it that i’m not dying anymore, then.”

“As if Jeonghan and I would let you die on us.” he scoffs, playfully nipping Jihoon’s ear, but Jihoon can sense how forced it is. Jisoo never was a good liar. 

“I knew you’d find me.” Jihoon says nuzzling Jisoo’s shoulder, hoping to console him even slightly, then adds, almost as an afterthought, “You always do somehow.” 

“Jihoon, I can’t -” Jisoo gasps soundlessly. Banging his fist against Jihoon’s shoulder lightly, he punctuates his next sentence. “You scared me to death! What if I hadn’t of found you in time? Or at all?” 

“Then I would have died.” Jihoon shrugs, faking cool nonchalance or maybe confidence, as Jisoo chides him but Jihoon just talks over him. “But you did find me. Just like I knew you would.”

“I’m still furious!” he howls, but his offending arm drops.   

“Oh, come on, Jisoo.” Jihoon says. He pouts up at his much taller friend and singsongs cutely, “I’m mortally injured, you can’t be mad at me.”

“Fine,” he huffs, a little taken aback by Jihoon’s teasing. “But once you get better, i'm back to being pissed.”

Grinning like the cheshire cat, Jihoon hums and licks his lips. “So, how did you do it exactly?”

“Save your life?” Jisoo questions.

“Yeah and manage to keep me from being repossessed.” Jihoon shudders at the thought. 

“Well,” he sighs, “When we got to you, you were in really bad shape. Luckily, Jeonghan keeps medical supplies in his car so he was able to start you on an IV and sterilize the wound so we could bandage you up and get you to the car without causing any more damage. One of your lungs had collapsed, so he had to put in a chest tube too. Oh, god, was I glad you were unconscious for that.

But because of the police - they were checking out the scene still - we had to get to the car another way which took longer, unfortunately. Once we got to the car we took you to Jeonghan’s hospital to be safe. He made up this whole story about how you were his. Something about how you took a walk and he found you like that, which they believed since they’ve known him personally for years.”

“So everyone thinks i'm Jeonghan’s? What about you then?” Jihoon frowns. He’s caused them enough strife, Jihoon doesn’t want to start more trouble. Especially between the two of them; Jihoon knows how territorial cat hybrids are. Jisoo would try to push down his feelings about it for the sake of Jihoon, but eventually they would erupt and do damage to his relationship with Jeonghan. 

“Jeonghan and I have been thinking of having another hybrid stay with us, someone young enough to have play dates with Sarang, anyway. They just think that you’re the new hybrid Jeonghan has been talking about for months.” Jisoo elaborates awkwardly, eyes roaming around the room. “So don’t worry about us.” 

Jihoon, having craned his neck up to listen attentively with his ears pointed, suppresses a smile. “You and Jeonghan want a kid together?” 

In his head, Jihoon imagines them having a little boy, maybe a cat like Jisoo. Small, chubby arms would clinging to Jisoo, rubbing his cheek on Jisoo’s pants to mark him, when Jihoon is first introduced to him. He can just see Jeonghan being the one to tuck him in at night, his long, silky hair swishing on the sides of his face like a curtain, as their boy bats the ends of his hair playfully; Taking the boy and Sarang to the cafe with them and watching as they run around. Jihoon wants that for them, so bad.  

“Well, uh, yeah,” Jisoo stutters. A soft blush from his cheeks creeps down to his neck. “A-anyway, you had a surgery too. There was some internal bleeding, but they caught it in time. Jeonghan will come talk to you about aftercare and all that really soon. You’ll have to say for at least another day for observation but Jeonghanie is your day nurse and i’ll be here during the night so their won't be a problem.”  

Jihoon nods sagely, not worried about his situation at all and still stuck on them with a kid. “For what it's worth, I think you guys would be great parents.” 

 

* * *

 

“Hush! You guys need to keep it down, you’re echoing through the whole ward!” Jeonghan chastises all nine of his visitors when he pops his head into the room. 

Various apologies sound off from everyone circled around Jihoon’s bed, but as soon as Jeonghan leaves, the volume picks up again when his friends recount their shenanigans at the cafe: the catfight between two customers, Chan scouring his crush’s number, and Soonyoung accidentally sending a nude to the groupchat. Jihoon laughs along with each story, clutching his side and having to shush them frequently so he can catch his breath and push down the tugging pain that each laugh brings. 

“This was the third time!” Seungkwan says though giggles. From where he’s seated at the end of Jihoon’s bed, he reaches over and slaps Jihoon’s knee thrice for emphasis.   

“Oh my god, it’ll never happen again!” Soonyoung shouts through his hands as he covers his face in shame. Seokmin rubs his back in silent support, but he’s holding back a smile by pressing his lips firmly together. 

“That's what he said last time too.” Hansol jumps in, elbowing Jihoon’s leg similar to his boyfriend’s actions earlier. 

Jihoon chuckles through his teeth and winces when another jolt of pain hits his abdomen. He manages to gasp out, “You guys are killing me.”

They stick around a while longer, but as the sun sunk lower in the sky his friends slowly started trickling out. Jun and Minghao are the last ones to go. 

“What time is Jisoo coming back?” Minghao asks as he shrugs on his jacket. His silver hoop earrings sway with the movement, catching the light. 

“I’m not sure, but I think he’ll be back around the time Jeonghan’s shift ends.” Jihoon says. He watches Minghao button up his coat with nimble fingers.

“Do you want us to stay until he gets here?” Minghao pauses on the last button and looks over to Jihoon with raised eyebrows. 

“Oh, no, you guys go on ahead.” Jihoon quickly shakes his head. “Jeonghan will be here for another hour and I’ll be fine on my own if Jisoo is late getting here. Besides, don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“I don’t,” Jun cantillates cheekily, dancing around Minghao teasingly. He gets shoved away, but his fox hybrid is smiling. 

“I do, but you know Soonyoung won’t mind if i'm late.” Minghao answers, side eyeing Jun as he wraps Minghao up in a back hug and lays his chin on the others shoulder.  

“I’m getting sleepy anyway, you should go have dinner somewhere nice.” Jihoon says winking conspiratorially at Minghao, who brightens at the suggestion and turns to Jun with determination in his eyes. 

“Jun, we should go -” 

Cutting him off, Jun leans in and pecks him on the lips. “Whatever it is, the answer is yes.”

Minghao slugs him in the shoulder, his hot temper flaring briefly, burnt orange tail pluming out, and half pouts, half glares at his boyfriend. “You didn’t let me finish, Jerk.”

“I already know i’d do whatever you want anyway,” Jun laughs, rubbing where the fox struck. He turns Minghao around and finishes the last button before kissing him on the nose. “Can you wait in the hall for me? I have to talk to Jihoon about something before we get going.” 

Minghao nods. He walks over and hugs Jihoon tightly and message his ear momentarily. “Bye, Jihoon. I hope you feel better really fast. We’ll come visit again soon.” 

“Thanks,” Jihoon says, a bit sad to see the fox go. 

Jun waits until Minghao closes the door behind him before shoving his hands in his pockets and speaking. “I already took care of your hospital bills, so don’t worry about it and just focus on getting better.”

Jihoon’s mouth drops. He had resigned himself to his fate. He knew he’d have to scrape and beg to get enough money to pay this off, because Seungcheol already has enough to pay, between his surgery and rehabilitation, and Jihoon knew he couldn’t let his human suffer more if he could help it. But this - this changes everything. 

Jun smirks. “You must have a lot of questions. I’ll gladly answer them once you get situated at my house with Sarang okay? Just know that it’s taken care of and you can pay me back by healing up well.” 

“I-I,” Jihoon starts, then shakes his head at a loss. “Thank you. So much. Really. You didn’t have to-”   

“Don't worry about it.” Jun waves him off. He pulls his right hand out of his pocket to reveal a smart phone. “Here. We couldn’t find your old one. I already put everyone's number in it.” 

Jihoon takes it, still blown away by that fact that he’s debt free. He turns the phone around in his hands, inspecting the pristine quality. His old phone was nice and he liked it alot, but he’s got to admit that this one is a lot nicer. It’s sleek in design and is much bigger than the last.  

“I’m pretty cool, huh?” Jun grins, striking a pose; his hands frame his face while one leg is stuck out cutely. 

“Are you sure you’re not a mob boss or something?” Jihoon asks, mostly serious. How the hell could Jun afford to pay of his bills and buy a brand new smart phone?  

Jun drops his pose and walks to the door, his laughter floating back to Jihoon. He stops before leaving to look over his shoulder. “Seungcheol wouldn’t stop asking to see you, by the way. You should call him or who knows, maybe he’ll call you later tonight.”

 

* * *

 

“Jihoon,” Jeonghan coaxes him gently to consciousness, voice soft and light. “I’m just going to check on the wound, okay? You can go back to sleep if you want.” 

The light switches on, painting Jihoon’s eyelids an angry red. Fingers peel back his blanket, then the bandage itself after a moment. The sudden shift in temperature has him shivering. He groans, showing discomfort and throws his arm over his eyes. 

“I know, I know,” Jeonghan says, gloved fingers cleaning the wound. “I’m almost done.” 

“It’s cold,” Jihoon mumbles. Goosebumps cover his arms and his teeth are on the verge of chattering.  

“There you go,” A new bandage it placed, gloves are snapped off, then he’s tucked back into warmth once more. “It seems a little red and swollen still, so i’ll have to notify the night nurse before I leave and check it again when I come in tomorrow.” 

“Hmm, okay,” Jihoon’s eyes flutter open to see Jeonghan frowning at him. 

“Let me check your temperature real quick while you’re awake.” Jeonghan turns to grab the thermometer and sheaths it in the disposable cover. “Don’t bite down, please.”      

Jihoon opens his mouth obediently, too tired to say much, making sure not to bite on the probe, then lets his eyes fall shut.  

They sit in silence for a few moments before Jeonghan speaks again. “I’m surprised you’re asleep this early. It’s barely seven thirty.” 

The thermometer beeps, alerting men that it’s finished. Jeonghan takes it back and Jihoon waits patiently for his friend to speak. 

“It’s 100.9 degrees.” 

When Jeonghan doesn't continue, Jihoon looks to him with his eyebrows raised. “Is that bad?”

“Kind of.” he sighs and begins to put away all the supplies he took out earlier: bandages, tape, thermometer and probe covers. “It’s normal to run a small fever in your case but once it hits 101 degrees, it’s a red flag. You’re right on the line for concern.”

“Oh,” 

“Don’t worry too much, Jihoon. I’ll make sure to have your nurse keep a good eye on you throughout the night and i’ll come in a bit earlier tomorrow just in case.” Jeonghan smiles reassuringly. All tidying up, he tucks the blanket tighter around Jihoon before starting to leave. 

“You don't have to, you know,” Jihoon says, guilt nipping at his rips. His friend turns, confusion flashing over his features. “I’ll be fine.” 

Jeonghan tuts, folding his arms - just like a mother ready for scolding. “Who’s patient are you?”   

“Yours.” Jihoon mumbles under his breath, feeling like a kitten under Jeonghan’s gaze.

“That’s right, you’re my patient.” Jeonghan moves a hand to his chest for emphasis, expression leaving no room for debate. “And I decide what's best for my patient. Now, I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning Jihoon.”    

  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this fluffy enough to make up for last chapter??   
> Jisoo & jihoon are brotp in this right? Also I bet y'all are really curious abt Jun but don't worry I'll write about him soon   
> Sorry Seungcheol wasnt in his chapter but he should be in the next chapter, so look forward to that


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! I'm back with 3k this time

_ Pick me, pick me, pick me up! _

Jihoon wakes to his new phone ringing obnoxiously in his ear. He groans, not wanting to wake up, but feeling a strong need to turn off the song. Why can’t everyone just let him  _ sleep.  _ He’s been through hell the past few days, he deserves some rest. 

He slaps his nightstand in search of his phone, grumbling mild threats until he finds it. He answers the phone, not bothering to check the caller ID, and lets the phone rest by his ear with his eyes still glued tight in defiance. “Hmm?” 

“ _ Ji-jihoon? _ ” 

At Seungcheol’s voice he shoots up, moaning when his side ignites at the sudden movement, snatching the phone up and clutching it desperately to his ear. “Seungcheollie?” 

“ _ Did you get hurt again? Why do you sound like you’re in pain? _ ” he worries over the phone. Jihoon can picture his frown, eyebrows creased and bottom lip between his teeth.  

“No, no, no!” Jihoon is quick to reassure his human. God, he’d do anything to see Seungcheol, to smooth his concerned expression. “I just sat up too fast, that’s all.”

“ _ Oh my poor baby, _ ” he hiccups.  _ “I’m so sorry, Jihoon. This is all my fault- _ ” 

“Don’t you dare,” Jihoon cuts him off roughly, shoving aside his joy at hearing his human. He won’t stand for any slander, even from Seungcheol himself. “Don't you dare blame yourself for this. That person hit us. The light had turned green.”

“ _ But I should have been more cautious, should have paid more attention. I could have slammed on the brakes or something and we would have avoided this. _ ” he sniffs. 

His human is crying. Jihoon’s certain of it. There are small pause between his words, like he keeps having to take a gulp of air, and his voice is deeper than normal. Thicker.

It breaks Jihoon’s heart. 

“What about me then? I saw them coming, I saw them hit us. I should have told you to stop.” Jihoon shot back with conviction. The hand running over his blanket just to feel the texture under his fingers halts. It was something he tried bury deep, his inability to change the past, but that split second of realization haunts his dreams. He regrets not having shielded Seungcheol from the impact. Maybe then his human wouldn’t be suffering now; he would gladly take Seungcheol’s place.

If Seungcheol was guilty, then so was he.     

“ _ Oh, no, Jihoon, that’s not your fault. It happened too fast for you to do anything, baby. Even if you had said something, it would have been too late. _ ”    

“It happened too fast for you to do anything Seungcheollie.” Jihoon reiterates firmly. “Even if you saw them, it would have been too late.” 

Seungcheol huffs of a bark of laughter. “ _ You got me there, baby. _ ”

“Walked right into it,” Jihoon agrees.

They're silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry I left you.” he gulps as tears stick to his eyelashes. A sob tears it’s way out of his throat. Jihoon’s hand balls into a fist, crumpling the blanket in his palm as he gasps for air. “I hate myself for leaving you and Sarang alone. Our poor girl must’ve been so scared and I had to walk away from her.She was all alone with a you when you looked dead! I told her not to look but I know she saw you anyway.”   

“ _ Baby, baby, please don’t cry. You did the best you could.”  _ his human insistes. _ “No, you really did the right thing. If you had stayed, I probably would’ve never seen you again. I just - it killed me when I found out where they found you. What if you had died there, by the trash? I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.” _

“I miss you.” Jihoon whimpers, finally letting his relief and heartache wash over him; hearing Seungcheol comfort him helps, even if he doesn’t believe it. He doesn’t say that the guilt will never fade. That he knows what he did is probably unforgivable. “I wanna see you so, so, so, so bad.”  

“ _ I want to see you too, but I want you to get better more. I need you to be okay and that will take some time but -  _ ” 

“Oh, man, look who I found.” 

The light flips on, illuminating the entire room.

Jihoon whips his head towards the door to see Jongil blocking the door. Distantly, Jihoon hears Seungcheol calling his name. He should answer, at least, but his brain is stuck on the fact that Jongil walked through his door. He feels like his brain is short circuiting. The whole situation is too much for him to process at the moment. Jihoon thought he was done with his old owner; he never really thought he’d ever have to seen him again, let alone talk to him. How did he even know where Jihoon was?

“It’s my little runaway kitty, Woozi.” Jongil croons. He stalks forward a few steps, making Jihoon snap out of his shock.

“ _ Jihoon! Tell me i’m wrong! _ ” his human yells in his ear. “ _ Please tell me that Jongil is not with you! _ ”

“Seungcheollie, _ I love you. _ ” Jihoon speaks into the phone, voice unwavering. He keeps a watchful eye on Jongil, body tense, ready to make a run for it if he has to. His wound will probably reopen, but he’d rather bleed out than have to deal with Jongil. “And I’m sorry but I have to call you back, baby.” 

“ _ Jihoon, don’t you dare hang up the phone! _ ”

 

* * *

  
  


_ Click! _

Seungcheol breathes heavily into the phone. His grip around his phone tightens. Disbelief and anger - at Jongil, not Jihoon, never at his Jihoon - wage a war in his head.

He can’t even walk, how can he help Jihoon? His mind shoots through each of their friends, trying to think of who could be closest to Jihoon.  

_ Jisoo!  _ The hybrid is supposed to be spending nights with Jihoon. Where the hell is he? 

Frantically he dials Jisoo, hoping to god that the hybrid is close to the hospital since he knows Jeonghan has already left from their conversation earlier. His hands shake so much that he has to redial three times. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” he mumbles. 

* * *

 

“Get out.” Jihoon says simply. He has no patience to deal with Jongil’s taunting chit chat. His fingers itch to check the time, but instead he rubs the tears off his cheeks. Jisoo should be here soon, that much he can tell since no light comes through his window. 

“Ouch,” Jongil clutches his chest where his heart is - or should be anyway. Jihoon is pretty sure he was born without one.

“Get out,” Jihoon repeats, his tail standing straight up behind him. He points to the door. Keeps his arm up regardless of the visible temor present. 

When he sees Jihoon’s stoic expression, he drops the friendly act. His eyes harden and he just about sneers, “I see you haven’t taken my advice to heart.” 

“You were wrong.”

Jongil scoffs, looking at him like he's a child throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of the store. “Don’t be an idiot, Woozi.”

“My name is not Woozi.” he says, tension shaking his voice. He drops his arm because it hurts to hold it up for long and it feels a little like accepting defeat.  

“Oh?” Jongil raises his eyebrows, arms crossing. The icy tone betrayed his nonchalant words. “Then, do enlighten me. What is your name?”

“Like I would let you speak my name.” he spits. Just the thought of Jongil calling his name sends a shiver down his spine. He knows he shouldn’t engage Jongil. It only encourages him more. He knows. But hearing ‘woozi’ after so much time of hearing terms of endearment and his real name has him feeling like ants are crawling all over his body. 

“I don’t think I like your new found personality. I liked you better when you were submissive to a fault.” Jongil says as he strides coolly over to the chair next to Jihoon’s bed and parks his ass in it. The chair scrapes along the linoleum flooring as he drags the chair impossible close. “You need an attitude adjustment. Luckily for you, I’m the perfect man for the job.”  

This was the worst thing to say. Jihoon is quite proud of his new open and honest personality. It’s something that took a lot of effort on his part and has been celebrated by his friends and Seungcheol, who were so happy to see Jihoon open up to them.

He glares and sneers right back, “My attitude, problem or not, is none of your business. You do not own me.”  

“Maybe not at this very moment,” Jongil agrees easily. “But you’re alone. Seungcheol is far away at another hospital and your friends aren't here to protect you.” 

Jihoon’s blood turns to slush in his veins. It’s then that he’s certain he’ll have to fight, that Jongil will most likely take him. But fuck if Jihoon isn’t going to kicking and screaming. 

“Now, enough small talk. It’s time to go.” Jongil makes a show of standing up. 

“I am not leaving here.” Jihoon says with conviction. He steals himself, knowing Jongil won’t take kindly to his disobedience. Jihoon doesn’t care. He’s nearly died only a few days ago and maybe that has flipped a switch in him or made him realized that he’s not afraid of Jongil anymore since he just lived through his worst fear. Jihoon beat death (mostly by trusting his friends but still). He’s not about to let Jongil bust into his  _ hospital  _ room like he owns the place. No, like he owns Jihoon. 

“Shut up. I didn’t spend time and money to get you back just to have you suddenly grow a spine and fuck it all up.” Jongil towers over him, reaching to pull out the I.V. in his arm. Without thinking, Jihoon latches onto Jongil’s arm with his sharp feline fangs. He feels blood pool in his mouth as Jongil howls in pain. “Fuck, you piece of shit! Let go!”

Jihoon grates his jaws down further, tasting skin in his teeth as satisfaction settles into his bones. When Jongil dig a finger or two directly into his injured side, he yelps and unfortunately lets go. His breath chokes off. Flames sear relentlessly through him and he has to hunch over, applying pressure to the wound in an attempt to smother the fire, as he struggles to catch his breath. 

The I.V. is ripped from his arm and his blankets are pulled back. Cold air rushes through his thin hospital gown. Jongil reaches for him, but he manages to dodge. Only, being in a single twin sized bed that he is, he rolls over the edge and crashes onto the floor hard. He lands on his tail, a snapping sound echoing through him. He gasps out at the sudden impact, tears springing to his eyes at the abuse his body is enduring. 

Jongil’s face is red with anger as he stalks around to his side of the bed, where Jihoon is sprawled out on the icy tiles. He’s cradling his arm to his chest. “Get up!” 

“Fuck you,” Jihoon hisses, but for all his bravado he’s scrambling backwards to get away from Jongil. It’s hard; his sweaty hand keeps slipping and he has no energy and he’s cold and shaking from his fever and he has to keep his other hand pressed to his side because he feels a dampness through the bandage and gown. He keeps his eyes trained worriedly on Jongil’s feet to gauge their distance for one another, but once his back smacks into the wall his gaze snaps up to see Jongil’s smug look. 

The human stalks the rest of the way to Jihoon and yanks him up by the arm. His feet barely brush the tiles from how high Jongil has him dangling. Stinging pain shoots from his shoulder; it feels like his arm is being torn from it’s socket. He can't help but grunt from the pain of it. Jihoon has never despised his height more than in this moment. 

“You’ll never be able to take me out of this room. The nurses know i’m owned by someone else and i’ll make sure to let them know i’m bleeding out from a reopened wound.” Jihoon insists through clenched teeth. When he feels blood drip through his fingers he smiles wide.

“They should be in the breakroom drinking the coffee I brought them, but if someone happens to see, I’ll just pay them off,” Jongil says offhandedly. He starts walking towards the door, but as light as Jihoon is, it’s too awkward for him to carry Jihoon in that position so he settles for dragging Jihoon roughly behind him by jerking his sore shoulder to get him to move. “It’s not like they really care what happens to a hybrid anyway and there aren’t any laws to protect you.” 

“Yeah, but even if you’re right, I’ll be dead by the time you get me halfway to your place.” Jihoon cackles, a little delirious - from the fever or the blood loss he doesn’t know. He lets his bloody hand drop from his wound. 

_ Jisoo is on his way. Jisoo is on his way. Jisoo is on his way. _

He’s just got to stall long enough for Jisoo to get here. 

Jihoon latches onto the handles at the end of his hospital bed as they pass and when his gory hand starts to slip from the rung, he bites his lip, to prepare himself, and wrenches his other arm out of Jongil’s grasp. He pushes past the fierce ache in his shoulder and pulls himself so he can cling properly to the plastic bed frame. Blood rolls down his hip as he flexes his abdominal muscles, but it’s worth its. 

“Just give up,” Jongil sighs, blowing brown hair out of his eyes. “They don’t even love you. That little girl will never forgive you and you know it. Seungcheol has more important things to focus on than the likes of you and you know what happens if you go back-”   

“Oh, choke on it!” Jihoon seethes. Jongil is like a broken record, only spouting of the same bullshit. He’s tired of hearing it. His arms ache from the strain of holding onto the handle and his eyes are starting to lose focus. “I won’t fall for it.” 

Jongil growls and takes a step forward threateningly but stops short when Jisoo slide between them. 

Seeing his best friend, Jihoon lets go of the bed and lets gravity to haul him to the floor. A tiny body catches his head in their lap. He looks up to see Sarang’s watery eyes on him. Jihoon smiles up at her.  

“If you leave now and never see Jihoon again, I won’t call the authorities.” Jisoo says. He stands tall, ears and tail lowered - not out of submission or fear, no, it’s like he’s about to pounce on his prey. His rage burns Jihoon’s nostrils as it fills up the room. Too bad Jongil can’t smell the warning. 

“Out of my way, hybrid.” Jongil tries to knock Jisoo out of the way but Jisoo stops him by grabbing his arm. He snaps his head to Jisoo, enraged that he dare touch him. He scoffs, “There are no laws protecting hybrids, so go ahead.”  

“I don’t think the judge will rule in favor of a thief. Jihoon is owned by another man. Even if there are no laws protecting us, there are protecting our owners and their belongings.” Jisoo smirks, raising his eyebrows tauntingly. 

Jongil rips his arm from Jisoo’s grip, jaw flexing. There's blood on the edge of his sleeve; Jihoon feels proud. He glares at Jihoon and says threateningly, “The moment Seungcheol returns you, you’re mine. Got that?” 

Jihoon locks eyes with the human. Grimacing, he spits, “Get fucked, asshole.”   

Jongil storms out, slamming the door behind him so hard vibrations reach where Jihoon is laid out.

At the noise, Sarang clutches him closer to her. She runs tiny fingers through his hair and pauses to massage his ears occasionally. Jihoon has gone pleasantly numb, but but he appreciates it anyway. She leans down and kisses his forehead. “My poor kitty,”    

“Oh my god, Jihoon,” Jisoo rushes to him, but stops short when he sees the puddle of blood starting to form underneath him. He scrambles for the nurse call button before crouching next to Jihoon. 

“You’re late,” he says with a relieved smile. He slides his hand into Jisoo’s and squeezes before letting go.   

“I'm so sorry, I went to pick up Sarang from Jun so you could see her but there was traffic so the buses were slow.” Jisoo applies pressure to his wound firmly. “I-i wanted to surprise you.”

“It was a nice plan,” Jihoon mumbles. He’s touched that Jisoo would bring her to visit and even more touched that she would actually agree to come. What Seungcheol told him rings through his head. Maybe she’s open to forgiving him.   

“Sarang hates that man.” Sarang sniffles. She chews on her cheek. “Dad's gonna be so mad at him, too.”  

Jihoon can’t help but laugh at that, even when Jisoo tells him to stop and that he’s just making his wound worse. Oh, how he missed his tiny human. She’s right, though, Seungcheol will be furious. Jihoon thinks back to earlier, before shit really hit the fan, when Seungcheol yelled at him to not hang up.

“Dad’s gonna be mad at me too this time.” he slurs. Jihoon know’s he had too, Seungcheol would only have distracted him. Beside he didn’t want this human to have to hear Jongil’s abuse or Jihoon’s pained whines.    

“It’s okay, Kitty,” she says, with confidence only a toddler can have, and wipes at her eyes with the sleeves of her fuzzy pink sweater (Jihoon hopes they can get the blood out of it. Sarang looks so cute and tiny in it.). “Uncle Jisoo fix it all better."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :-)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on twitter @woozis_mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! Sorry it took me so long the past month are been pretty hectic for me, but hopefully stuff will die down and I'll get back on a regular schedule.   
> I just finished this so I'm not entirely happy with it...Maybe I'll go back and fix it sometime idk anyway enjoy!

“Okay, so, one more time. Keep  the wound dry and clean. Make sure you clean and rebandage it like i showed you earlier and if you need help, call me and i'll come over. Make sure you wash your hands more often, but especially before and after cleaning the wound.” Jeonghan waits for him to nod; Jihoon does so involuntarily, having heard his friends whole spiel multiple times already, once before he was discharged and another two times while he was escorted out of the hospital. “Look out for bleeding that continues for five minutes, fever & chills, redness and or swelling, discoloration, and any pus or bad smells.” 

“You’ll see me in a few days, Jeonghan. I promise not to get any worse between then and now.” Jihoon rolls his eyes, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie down and over his hands. He curls his fingers over the frayed cuffs so he has sweater paws. 

Honestly, if Jihoon needed any of this information he could just look it up online and if he still has questions then he could just call Jeonghan. He knows his friend is just a worrier when it comes to things like this, but he can’t help but feel likes it's all a little unnecessary. They wouldn’t let him leave if he wasn’t on the mend, right?

“I'll make sure to help him when he changes bandages, Jeonghan, don't worry too much.” Minghao says, placing a hand reassuringly on the others shoulder with a consolatory smile.  

“Did you catch what I said earlier or should I repeat it for you?” Jeonghan worries more, biting his bottom lip. 

“Oh, god, no, please don't do that. I think we can all recite it in our sleep at this point,” Jun groans from where he’s leaning on the front of his fancy car. He rocks forward and slings an arm around Jihoon causally and begins to steer Jihoon toward the backseat, all the while echoing Jeonghan’s speech tauntingly. “Keep the wound dry and clean.  Make sure you clean and rebandage like -”

“Okay, okay, I get it smartass.” Jeonghan cuts him off, swatting at him as he passes. 

Minghao giggles, opening the passenger door. 

Jihoon’s left by the backseat door as Jun heads around to the drivers side. He reaches for the handle, but stops before his hand makes contact. Suddenly, Jihoon’s vision blurs as he’s thrown back into his last time in a car. The false sense of security, the cold fear right before the impact, and the searing pain all rush at him. He stumbles back a step on instinct, body shaking. He can’t do it; his stomach rolls angrily when he even thinks of getting any close to car. He’ll just have to walk everywhere for the rest of his life, he decides. Fuck cars. Fuck shitty drivers. 

A hand settles on his back, light as a feather. 

“Jihoon?” Jeonghan prods kindly, a knowing look on his face. There’s pity, maybe, or just sadness, there too.  

Jihoon stares at his clammy hands and focuses on his breathing. Once he feels anchored to the present again he glances at his friend.

“It’s okay if you’re scared.” Jeonghan says, rubbing wide circles between his shoulder blades. With his other hand he tucks a flyaway hair behind his own ear.  

Jihoon doesn’t say anything. There’s something stuck in his throat and if he opens his mouth, he’ll cry. He can feel the pressure building behind his eyes. He wishes Seungcheol were here. His human always knows just how to calm him down, knows just what to say so he doesn’t have a panic attack. 

Seungcheol. 

Jihoon craves him. 

The last time they spoke was when Jongil made a go at him; more than a week ago. He never did call him back, even though he said he would. Jihoon had been semi conscious for the better part of the time since then; he was either too doped up or delirious with pain to really be able to hold a conversation for long and he hadn't wanted Seungcheol to know about it. It would make his human feel guilty or sad or both. But now Jihoon is good; he’s able to walk around without crying, as movement no longer tugs at his side achingly, and his shoulder is fully functional (even if it's still a sickly green color).   

All Jihoon wants to do is curl up with his human. 

“Would it help if Minghao sat with you in the back?” Jeonghan offers, shooting a look over his shoulder. 

Jihoon’s not sure it will, but he nods anyway. He’s willing to suffer for just a little bit longer if it means he’ll be with Seungcheol again. Support can only help, right? 

Without a word, Minghao slides out of his place up front next to Jun and into the back. He leaves the door open for Jihoon to follow. 

Jihoon takes a deep breath and glances at Jeonghan, who takes the hint, and guides him back to the car. 

He scoots over to the middle seat and into Minghao’s personal bubble immediately. Jihoon kicks off his shoes and throws his legs over Minghao’s, who welcomes him happily, wrapping Jihoon up in his long arms and snuggling in. He hides his face into his friend's shoulder, closing his eyes and willing himself to feel comforted. Within the circle of his fellow hybrid’s arms, he’s safe. He is safe. He repeats it over and over until he starts to calm down. He just got into an accident, what are the odds that it happens  _ again _ ? Pretty slim, he hopes. 

He’s almost completely relaxed, limbs loose, until the car starts. He tenses back up, shoulders jerking to cover as much of himself as he can. Minghao, feeling the sudden change, messages his ear, talking lightly about how much Jihoon’s going to love Jun’s house. Jihoon appreciates the distraction; he throws himself in each of Minghao’s detailed descriptions wholeheartedly. 

Time passes. Jihoon stays nestled close to his friend’s chest the whole way, lulled into a fragile peace by his rudimentary Korean; Jihoon takes a moment to note how much Minghao has improved since they were first introduced. 

“Jihoon, look, we’re here.” Minghao says excitedly, shaking his shoulder gently. 

 

* * *

 

Stepping inside Jun’s house, Jihoon scans the entrance way in awe. To his right is a huge staircase connected to a large landing and to his left is an open concept living space. The furnishings are all high quality, brand new and modern. The color scheme is lively, blues and greens mixed with chocolate brown wood floors. Splashes of white appear; the shaggy carpet under the, also stark white, couches, and the wide fireplace. On the opposite side from the front door is a wide open archway. From where Jihoon is standing, mouth agape, he can see another large room that upon further inspection turns out to be the kitchen - based on the island topped with black granite and the coffee machine perched atop it. There’s a huge refrigerator just behind it.   

It’s fucking weird how nice and expensive looking Jun’s house is and part of Jihoon wants to make a big deal about it, but the bigger part of him is unfazed. The last few weeks of his life have one big clusterfuck of weird and shocking so what’s one more thing? He does make a note to finally figure out how Jun managed to find himself rolling in cash, though.   

Sarang is seated at the island, next to an older lady who looks to be the housekeeper, juice box in hand as she works on coloring something. Her head pops up when Jun closes the door behind them, eyes zeroing in on Jihoon. 

“Kitty!” Sarang screeches, abandoning her drink and crayons and running down the hallway from the kitchen full force toward him. Jihoon drops to his knees, arms spread wide, in time to catcher her. Her arms circle his neck, legs locked around his waist tightly so she’s sat on his thighs. 

He doesn’t know what he ever did to deserve her in his life - Seungcheol either.  

“I missed you.” Jihoon murmurs into her small shoulder. The last time he’d seen her, he’d been bleeding out on the floor. It feels nice to be able to hold her back; it’s been so long since he’s had contact with her so she smells of Minghao and as much as Jihoon loves his fox friend, it bothers him. It’s not too strong, which means Minghao hadn’t done it purposely. It’s most likely just because Sarang has been living with the fox for a while and not Jihoon. He tries to ignore it, but it makes his skin prickly with how  _ wrong _ she smells. Giving into instinct, he rubs his cheek on her shoulder even though the fabric of her pink shirt isn’t the softest, making her giggle at the sensation of him nosing her neck, so she’ll be marked by him again, his fresh scent overpowering the other hybrids mark. 

“Missed you.” she squeezes him a little, a hand rubbing his ear after it twitches from the sensation of her breath ghosting over it. “Is my kitty all better now?” 

“Yeah, I still have to be careful though.” Jihoon replies, leaning into her tiny hand. He tries to pull back, after a moment of basking in her affection, so he can see her properly, but she holds on, grip like steel. 

“Told ya, Uncle Jisoo is the bestest ever.” she says smugly. 

Jihoon smothers a smile when he hears Jun suck in a breath in indignation at that. 

“Uncle Jeonghan has him on bed rest still, so make sure you’re real gentle with him.” Minghao chimes in, gliding past them and heading towards the kitchen. There’s a knowing smirk that just screams the he’d noticed Jihoon marking Sarang on his lips and his tail drags teasingly across Jihoon’s arm when he passes. 

Jun follows after his boyfriend, messing up Sarang’s hair, probably out of spite, as he passes. “Is your dad upstairs still?” 

“Uh huh,” she mumbles, relinquishing her hold on Jihoon to pat her messy black locks back into place and then reaching for his hand. “He really missed kitty too.” 

Jihoon bites his lip. 

“How about I make some lunch for us?” Minghao says, putzing around the kitchen. He opens the fridge to scan for ingredients, waving off the lady at the counter when she protests. “How’s American food sound?”

“Grilled cheese, please!” Sarang hollers back in response, only butchering the pronunciation a little and shaking Jihoon’s hand excitedly. “You gotta try it, it’s so yummy!”

Jun pops his head around the corner. “Why don’t you come help Mingming, Sarang? I'm sure your dad wants to see Jihoon.”

She looks up at him in thought, lips pulled into a slight pout. 

Seeing her clear hesitation, Jihoon pecks her on the forehead. “Save me one?” 

“Otay,” she sulks off down the hall but brightens once Minghao sweeps her into the wonders of cooking. 

Jihoon stands slowly, knees creaking and tail dragging. Any longer on the floor and his legs would’ve fallen asleep. 

“Second door on the right, Jihoon.” Jun throws his way before disappearing into the kitchen once more. 

Jihoon is almost to the staircase before Jun pops back around the archway. “Jihoon!”

He turns, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

Jun gestures to the small woman following Minghao around the kitchen trying to persuade the fox instead of cooking. “Mirae said he took his painkillers like an hour ago. He might be a little out of it, so don’t be surprised if he acts weird, okay?”  

“Oh, alright.” 

The walk up the staircase is pure agony. Not because of his physical condition, no, corporeally he’s fine. Maybe a tad bit slow out of caution, but Jihoon can handle this much movement easily as long as he takes his time. The part that’s killing him is his thoughts. 

_ What if he doesn’t want to see me?  _

Jihoon would understand; he himself would be absolutely livid if Seungcheol had done to him what Jihoon did, just hung up during a crucial time and left him hanging. It would hurt like hell, but he wouldn’t hold it against him. If Jihoon’s lucky, then time will fix everything. But Sarang had said Seungcheol missed him, so hopefully Jihoon will be able to get all the snuggles the accident, and then that bastard Jongil, robbed him of. 

_ What if he cries? Oh, god, I can’t handle it if he cries. _

All the blood drains from his face.  Shaking himself, Jihoon focuses on getting up the rest of the stairs. Pictures line the walls to the left, all of Jun and Minghao. Some have the rest of the gang in them, Jihoon included. It’s nice, seeing everyone together like they’re this big happy family, which is pretty close to the truth seeing as the hybrids made each other family since they don’t have familial connections forged by blood.  

Once Jihoon reaches the landing he sighs in relief; it seems like he spent thirty years just getting to the upper floor. He grumbles a little to himself until he reaches the second door on the right. Despite his complaints, he stops before entering. 

His tails curls up around his waist, ears flicking with the strain of trying to detect any movement from the other side of the door because it’s so silent.  

Maybe he’s worrying for nothing. Jun said Seungcheol took his medicine, so maybe his human is asleep and Jihoon can just see him for a moment before going down to have lunch with Sarang. 

The door opens easily and closes quietly behind Jihoon. He pads over to the bed sat against the left wall lightly, trying not to wake up his human. 

Seungcheol is laid out flat on his back with the a blue comforter only covering half his body so his cast is out in the open. The cast itself is black and covers from mid thigh to the sole of his foot, the bottom of his heel encased in the fiberglass cast too. One hand rests on his stomach, the  other slung over his head crookedly. With his mouth open minutely, soft, barely audible snores slip past his lips to tickle Jihoon’s hears. 

All in all, Seungcheol looks good. His scratches and bruises have all healed, leaving beautiful tan skin behind. Healthy, other than the cast.  

Smiling, Jihoon leans down to press a kiss to Seungcheol’s forehead. His side smarts unhappily at him for bending over, so he sits on the edge of the bed before carding his hand through Seungcheol’s hair. But when the other starts to stir, he snatches his hand back and starts to make his quick get away. He gets too stride in before he freezes in place.

“Ji?” Seungcheol croaks, voice rough from sleep. He licks his lips before speaking. “Is it really you?” 

Jihoon turns back to study his human, unsure if he should just book it down stairs or stay. Running his hands over his tail nervously, he nods.  

Seungcheol eyes are squinting in concentration as he frowns. “Please don’t go.” 

And somehow that’s all it takes for Jihoon to be reassured. They’ll be okay. Seungcheol still wants him and so does Sarang. Everyone is alive. His worst nightmare is finally over. His head feels light with relief. 

“Please,” Seungcheol says through a wobbly lip. His blinks are getting longer and longer, like he’ll slip into sleep any minute or maybe the tears are weighing his lashes down too much for him to be able to keep his eyes open, but he still reaches his arms out to Jihoon and makes grabby hands at him. “Stay,”  

That has an anchor settling deep in the pit of his stomach. Jihoon shuffles back over and sits on the bed again but the moment he’s close enough Seungcheol latches onto him. Jihoon lets him pull his body down and instead of laying beside Seungcheol he throws a leg over his hips and lay atop him, sighing in content at the close contact. 

As close aa they are, chest to chest, Seungcheol tries to tug him impossibly closer, arms keeping him snuggly in place. In response, Jihoon squeezes his legs around his hips. “I won’t leave you.”

“Stay, stay, stay,” Seungcheol murmurs in between hiccups, the sharp rise and fall of his chest moving Jihoon with it. 

Jihoon litters little butterfly kisses on his collarbone placatingly and purrs, hoping the constant rumble with ease his human. “I will, I promise.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end guys T.T


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: fluff  
> Bad news: it's a short chapter

Jihoon sways up and down in time with his human’s breathing, rhythmically and lightly, with one cheek smushed against Seungcheol’s chest. His left ear flutters on each downward swoop, tickled by Seungcheol’s soft exhale ghosting over the thin skin. One hand, belonging to his injured shoulder, is tucked under his chin protectively, and the other is draped loosely over Seungcheol’s shoulder. His thin thighs still straddle his human’s waist, hip bones to hip bones, and at some point during the time he spent asleep his toes somehow managed to get tucked under Seungcheol’s thighs; he must have gotten cold since he is on top of the blanket. 

He lay there on the cusp of consciousness, unbothered, in a comfort induced trance-like state, from the monotony until he hears high pitched giggles echo sharply around the house, breaking his peacefully catatonia. He grumbles a little, annoyance at the disturbance poking at his stomach, and scrunches up his nose, wiggling it left and right. When that doesn’t ease his irritation he nuzzles into Seungcheol’s chest, vaguely hoping that snuggling into his warmth will be the thing to pull him back under sleep’s spell. It doesn't, unfortunately, but it does leave his scent woven into his human’s shirt and settles his belly just a smidge. Seungcheol without Jihoon’s mark is unnerving at best.   

Now that he’s more awake than asleep, Jihoon takes note of how dry his mouth is and smacks his lips lazily as if that will remedy his situation (it doesn’t). He tries licking the corners of his mouth when the sahara desert that is his mouth gets to be too bothersome. The notion of leaving crosses his mind but he quickly dismisses it. He should go get something to drink, maybe grab some of the lunch Minghao made while he’s at it, but he’s so warm and comfy pressed up against his human and besides, Seungcheol had made him promise to stay put.  

“Baby?” The body under him comes to a standstill, breath cutting off and restarting in a new rhythm. Hands find their way to his back, fingers tracing his spine and going all the way to the base of his tail. The contact tickles his skin even through his shirt, making goose bumps spring up over his arms. 

Jihoon hums, content with the slight touches.  _ Wouldn’t mind waking up like this forever,  _ Jihoon thinks and blinks up at Seungcheol, eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams up at him, his tail curling up happily. 

“You’re really here, right? I’m not going to wake up alone in a few minutes, am I?” Seungcheol frowns, thick eyebrows pulled to together, freezing. Fear crosses his face as he flicks his gaze all over Jihoon, to his ears, tail, nose, and then settling in his lips.   

“You’re awake, Seungcheollie, I promise.” Jihoon rubs his cheek into his chest before pushing himself up to a sitting position. Jeez, how many drugs have they been giving him, that he can’t tell between dreams and reality? Jihoon leans to the right and starts to sling his leg over so he can lay next to his human, but Seungcheol stills him with a tight grip on his hips. 

“Oh my god, Jihoon,” Seungcheol sits up, so fast they almost knock heads and Jihoon has to latch on to his shirt like a small kitten so he doesn’t land on his human’s injured leg, and cups Jihoon’s cheeks. “I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I-” 

“Don’t have too.” Jihoon says and pecks the corner of his lips. “We’ve discussed this, remember? If you're guilty then so am I.” 

“But still,” he trails off, eyes downcast. He rubs his thumb over Jihoon’s cheekbone. 

Jihoon pouts, mouth pursed. He can smell his human’s remorse -  it’s so piquant it lingers in the back of his throat bitterly. He tries his best to keep his nose from scrunching up against it as he mulls over something helpful to say.   

“How are you healing? Can I see?” Seungcheol asks and reaches out to him, but halts at the last second unsurely. He lets his hands drop back into his lap with a  _ thump.  _ Looking to Jihoon through his long lashes, he opens his mouth only to snap it shut before he gets a word out. 

It’s weird. Seungcheol must still be a little out of it or something. 

Jihoon sighs and lifts the hem of his shirt, exposing his wound. It’s mostly healed already and his stitches were removed that morning, but the skin is still angry red around the cut. Scar tissue is beginning to form and their are minute holes lining both sides of the seam, left over from the sutures, making it appear a little grotesque. He makes a note to clean and rebandage it soon; he really should have done it earlier, but he doesn’t regret taking a nap with Seungcheol. He’s not allowed to get it wet at all today but he’s not concerned since he slept most of the day, going by the clock on the bedside table.  “I’m practically healed, see?” 

“It looks painful.” he mumbles, thumbing Jihoon’s hipbone.

Jihoon shrugs, letting his shirt drop. Maybe if he’s casual about everything, it’ll minimize Seungcheol’s guilt. “Not anymore.” 

“My poor baby!” Seungcheol wails, pitching forward to rest his forehead on Jihoon’s collarbone and encircling his arms around Jihoon’s petite waist. 

Smothering a smile, Jihoon scooches up the others lap and wraps all appendages around him like a koala - even his tail curls around Seungcheol’s upper thigh. As shitty as it is that Seungcheol is so distressed, he can’t help but soak up the attention. It’s been so long, too long, since they’ve been together and now that they’ve been reunited Jihoon wonders how he ever managed to be apart from him at all.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Ive got 2 months left in highschool (yay) before I graduate but all my teachers have been assigning projects and homework and it's awful and I've been babysitting my nephew (who inspired Sarang) almost every day of the week. But I managed to squeeze this short chapter out bc I felt so bad for not updating ;-;   
> It's been a crazy month, but hopefully there'll be a lull in the crazy soon


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLLLLOOOOOO!!!!!!!  
> IM BACK SORTA  
> so i graduated high school and moved across country and things are finally settling down but im going to be job searching so who knows if im /really/ back lmao

Jihoon jolts awake at the sound of a sharp cry. He rubs sleep out of his eyes with the heel of his hands and gently untangles himself  from Seungcheol’s own practically comatose body. Usually, it takes a moment to do so carefully and without waking him up, but the medicines they have Seungcheol taking keep him knocked the fuck out so Jihoon pays him no mind and rips them apart. Seungcheol does little more than grumble and grab at the empty space Jihoon left but stops once Jihoon supplies a pillow in his place.  

He’s still half asleep, body sluggish and yawn lodged in his throat, but his feet lead him down the hall to Sarang’s room quickly, soles of his feet tapping across the flooring, and at this point muscle memory takes over. His tail drags on the floor as he goes, but he’s much to worried and out of it to really notice the scrape and bumps that assault his tail.

Sarang’s door is cracked and Jihoon wastes no time in pushing it open and fast walking to the bed in the corner. His little human is awake by now, sat up straight in the bed with tears steadily slipping down her round cheeks, and she looks up at him with wide, wild eyes as he approaches. When he gets close enough, she latches onto him, pulling him down to the bed so she can bury her face in his chest and cry.

Like always, he cuddles her immediately and tries everything to sooth her: rubbing circles on her back, rocking side to side, humming the song he made for her. She clutches on tighter and sniffles into his shirt for a while and before attempting to wipe away her tears.

“Was it the scary dream again?” Jihoon whispers into her hair, careful not to startle her. The last thing he wants to do is upset her more. 

She nods, eyelashes clumped together by tears. 

Jihoon takes a deep breath and repeats his usual mantra. He locks eyes with her and speaks gently, but firmly, as to leave no doubt. “Your kitty is here. Dad is just down the hall asleep. We love you and we aren’t going anywhere.”

“Kitty is here. Dad is down the hall asleep. You love me and ain't goin’ nowhere.” Sarangs mumbles into his chest and his ears twitch. 

He repeats himself twice more, Sarang murmuring after him, until he notices her posture begin to soften. Her arms loosen around his torso, hands slowly releasing the fabric of his shirt where she had balled it up in her fists.  

This makes it the third time this week she’s had nightmares about the car crash and he just wants his little girl to be okay. Therapy helps a lot. The frequency seems to be diminishing slowly the more time passes. According to Jun and Minghao, Sarang only slept when they gave her benadryl at first. Once she noticed them doing it, though, she refused it and would stay awake until exhaustion caused her to pass out. When Seungcheol got home from the hospital she slept with him and even though she was still haunted by night terrors, she was comforted by the fact that her father was right there, alive and not dying in her lap where Jihoon left her, and was able to get some rest.

“Do you wanna sleep with me and Dad tonight?” he says after a moment of silence. “Or do you want to stay here?”

Sarang doesn’t answer - just moves to wrap her arms and legs around him like a koala. He takes that as a yes and carries her down the hall to his room. 

Jihoon wakes this time to tiny fingers poking his cheeks. He cracks open one eye to look at Sarang. She startles once she see him looking at her, pulling her hands down quickly as if she didn’t want him to know it was her that woke him up.  

Sheepishly she smiles up at him, the way she knows he can’t resist, eyes big and sparkly, and half whispers, “Waffles?”

Jihoon huffs and glances at the clock on his bedside table with a smirk tugging at his lips. It reads nine o’clock and since it is time for breakfast he places a quick kiss on her forehead and peels back the comforter. “We can look but I don’t think Jun has any left, baby.” 

She hops out of bed, last night's woes apparently forgotten, and bounces on the balls of her small feet. Her ponytail swings like a pendulum behind her head with the force of her excitement, flyaway baby hairs sticking up every which way, her spaghetti strap tank top riding up over her round tummy as she throws her hands up triumphantly as if Jihoon would’ve (read: could’ve) denied her anything. 

“Otay!” Sarang says too loudly and automatically cringes at herself, hands zooming up to cover her mouth. She lets one hand grip the other as she sticks one finger up over her lips in the universal  _ shh _ sign. 

Jihoon suppresses a laugh and copies her gesture before slipping out of bed and following her down to the kitchen. Once there he picks her up and rests her on his hip so she can help him dig through the freezer for the waffles. Luckily there are two left in the box so he sets her on the island while he pops them into the toaster. 

Feeling small hands grasp at his tail, he turns and moves towards her so she can reach better. He flicks his tail teasingly under her nose as she giggles are tries to get ahold of his tail.Too busy watching her hands to keep up their little game he doesn’t notice her mischievous little smile before she lunges forward to go after his ears instead. He barks out a laugh at the smug expression on her face and dips closer so she can pet him without having to stretch uncomfortably. 

They stay like that until the toaster dings.  

 

* * *

 

It’s close to eleven when Seungcheol wakes up.

Jihoon’s writing lyrics on his phone while Sarang runs around the backyard. He makes sure to look every now and then to check on her, but mostly she’s chasing butterflies or playing pretend in the garden so he isn’t worried about her too much. She’s a pretty tame kid; its not like her to do something dangerous like try to climb the arbor or a tree as some of the pups or kittens at the shelter would try to do so he doesn’t have to watch her like a hawk.     

After the first thirty minute of being outside, she walks up and shyly hands him a yellow dandelion. She taps the toe of one shoes on the grass behind her as she waits for him to notice.

Jihoon stops typing, locks his phone, and slides it in his pocket so he can take it from her. He smiles wide, flattered she would give it to him. “Awh, is this for me?” 

“Uhuh,” she mumbles. “For you.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

He goes to place it in the breast pocket of his t-shirt but she stops him.

“No, like this.” She grabs it from him and places it behind one ear atop his head and giggles. “You’re a pretty prince now!” 

Hand coming up to cover his red cheeks, he laughs with her. “Should we find one for you?” 

“Yeah!” 

Jihoon stands and starts to follow her when he hears his name being called and then a banging coming from the house. His head snaps in that direction, ears flicking nervously, trying to pinpoint where the noise came from. Sarang notices and tugs on his hand in question, but doesn't try to pull him away. 

“Jihoon!” Minghao pops his head out from the sliding glass door before he walk out towards them, frowning. “Seungcheol needs you! I’ll stay with Sarang.”  

Jihoon mutters his thanks and takes off at a sprint. It’s been awhile since Seungcheol has had really bad nightmare. Even if he still gets confused when he first wakes up, the PTSD therapy was working really well so Jihoon didn’t think much of it when he left the bed that morning.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid, you knew he could have a setback _ ,  he berates himself as he races through the kitchen and living room. His foot catches on the carpet and he stumbles but catches himself before he takes a hard left to make it up the stairs without face planting straight into the wall. The closer he gets the easier it is for him to hear Jun trying to calm Seungcheol down. 

“Cheol, it's okay, I promise Jihoon is fine. It was just a nightmare.” 

“You’re lying!” Seungcheol cries, voice thick with tears. Jihoon hears him inhale before he hiccups. “He’s not here! He's dead. Jisoo was too late and I can't breathe.”  

“Cheollie!” Jihoon calls as he jumps up the last few steps. 

Seungcheol is on the floor, back propped up against the wall in the middle of the hallway while Jun is crouched in front of him. He cradles his head in his hands and by the way his chest his rising and falling quickly, he’s hyperventilating. The moment he hears Jihoon’s voice, his head snaps to him. 

Jihoon doesn’t pause at all, even when he sees the tear tracks down Seungcheol’s cheeks or the way his lips are bitten raw, just barrels down the hall to his human. Jun moves out of the way quickly so Jihoon can take his place.    

“Will you get him some water?” Jihoon shoots over his shoulder. Jun nods and leaves, but Jihoon doesn’t pay much attention to anything other that his human. He reaches out and cups Seungcheol’s cheeks, who clings onto his wrists, wiping up the remaining tears with the pad of his thumb. He flicks his gazes over Seungcheol’s face and then his leg. Everything looks okay, no signs of physical pain and his knee is still in the brace even though his crutches are askew next to him. Jihoon makes his voice as soothing as he can. “I’m here, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up, baby. Sarang woke me up asking for breakfast and then she wanted to play in the garden before her shower.” 

Seungcheol’s face crumples. He yanks Jihoon into his lap and  _ sobs  _ into his neck, hands clutching at him desperately - fingers tug at his hair and waist but only for a moment then they’re on the move, running down his back, over his tail, and up his chest. Jihoon makes himself as soft and pliable as possible for Seungcheol, lets his human touch him as much as he wants knowing he’s cataloging his body and checking for inconsistencies or anything to tell him he’s still dreaming.   __

“It’s okay, ‘m not going anywhere.” Jihoon says, watching the fog start to clear from his human’s eyes.

It takes a moment before Seungcheol’s satisfied, but once he is he slumps back against the wall, eyes half mast and large hands resting on Jihoon’s hips, sighing deeply. “Sorry, Jihoonie. I went to go look for you, but I didn’t make it very far.” 

The whole acting radiates self depreciation and it breaks Jihoon’s heart.

“Don’t be.” Jihoon shakes his head, ears low. He rolls his tail between his hands. “I wasn’t thinking when I left. I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t have to babysit me-” 

Jihoon cuts him off with a kiss. “Don’t start. I want to take care of you. I love you and I want to do anything and everything to make recovering easier for you. I fucked up this time and now I know that if I have to leave, I need to wake you up so this won't happen again.”  

Seungcheol smiles a sad little thing and says, “I love you.”  

“Delivery for Seungcheol!” Jun shouts from the bottom of the stairs. 

“Come on up!” Jihoon hollers back after Seungcheol nods his consent. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we are nearing the end of the story :(((( we still have a few chapters left at least but i hate endings   
> i just finished this so sorry for any mistakes!


End file.
